Joys
by percychased
Summary: A law shook up the whole Wizarding World, causing chaos and confusion, and maybe, just possibly, newfound love. But just because the Battle of Hogwarts is over, doesn't mean the war has ended. What happens when a family's lives are on the line? What do they do then? After the marriage law, things hit a deathly snag, and the fighting is not over. Fred/Hermione.
1. early morning

The fumes of bacon and sausage wafting into the bedroom woke Hermione up. She shifted in her bed at the Burrow, curling her hands to her chest. Her stomach growled, and Hermione took that as she should go downstairs and get something eat. Running her fingers through her bushy hair, she tied it in a quick plait and yawned, stretching her muscles before clamouring down the stairs of the Burrow to where Mrs Weasley and Harry sat at the table, having a hurried conversation under their breaths.

"Hello, Harry, Mrs Weasley. Good morning," said Hermione, before grabbing a plate of breakfast. Neither Harry nor Mrs Weasley responded; they merely gave her worried glances, which made Hermione furrow her eyebrows. She sat down next to them, and came to the realization that they were huddling around the morning edition of _The Daily Prophet. _A large, bolded headline, much bigger font than usual, was the title of the article they were pointing at. Something extremely important, she assumed.

"Is anybody else up?" asked Hermione, between mouthfuls of scrambled eggs and sausage.

"No, no, just you and us," said Mrs Weasley quickly, returning to whatever was in the _Prophet,_ her eyes reading dizzyingly fast. Hermione was confused, but shook her head and continued eating.

"Hermione," said Harry, breaking the silence. "You need to look at this." He handed her the edition of the _Prophet, _and she pushed away her plate as she scanned the headline.

**_Ministry of Magic Imposes New Law_**

_ All witches and wizards between the ages of eighteen and thirty who are not currently engaged or married and have a British citizenship will be assigned a spouse by the newly created Department of Wizarding Marriage. This new decree states that the witch/wizard in question will be assigned a spouse, whom they must marry within the following three months at a Ministry-approved date. The marriage must result in at least two children, and this goes with the previous statement: the marriage must be consummated weekly._

_ Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt tells us this - "Due to the recent inclining number of Squibs being born to witches and wizards, and the loss of life in the Final Battle, the Wizengamot have found it fit to impose this new law. This will result in more wizarding children born, and the possibility of Wizarding Britain becoming extinct will not be a worry. It is in our best interests that this law was passed."_

_ Witches/wizards subjected to this law will get their partner in three days' time, through a Ministry-officiated letter. Previously engaged couples will not receive these letters, but will have to marry in three months' time as well. Divorcing and annulling marriages is not permitted.. Failure to abide by this law with result in punishment chosen by the Wizengamot. _

_ Witches/wizards of Muggleborn decent will be matched to either a pure-blood or a half-blood for better chances of producing a child of Wizarding capabilities. For more information, see page 8. MARRIAGE LAW._

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and she closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. This had to be a joke, right? There was no way this would happen. This was some kind of sick joke, and they would tell her it was and they'd all start laughing.

"A-are you... is this true?" she asked weakly, but by the looks on their faces, she knew the answer.

"Unfortunately, yes, we just got an owl from Percy..." Mrs Weasley trailed off, burying her head in her hands.

"So it affects me..." whispered Hermione, in a shattered tone that she had never spoken before.

"You, Fred, Ron, Luna, Neville... tons of people." replied Harry hollowly. He and Ginny had gotten engaged about a month ago, and Bill, Percy and George were all married. Charlie was a Romanian citizen, so he was exempt.

"Hey," a familiar voice called from the stairs, "I'm starving! Why didn't anybody wake me up?" Ron paraded into the kitchen, dressed in plaid Chudley Cannon pajama pants and his bright red hair in every direction, very similar to Harry's hair on any other day.

Hermione, Harry and Mrs Weasley gave each other fleeting looks - he was going to figure it out some time, so why not now? If they kept it from him, he'd obviously be upset...

"Ron, you need to read this."

* * *

_ For obvious reasons, Fred didn't die in this. It would make my day if you dedicated a few seconds to typing up a review for me. This story is written for the HPFC Marriage Law Challenge, and I'm quite proud of my work on this story so far. Next chapter will contain Fred. Eheh. Again, don't forget to review, and enjoy please :)_


	2. the two sides of fred

His face turned that unattractive purple colour, and he rubbed the back of his neck, letting a string of curse words out underneath his breath that in most scenarios, his mother would reprimand him severely for.

"This has to be some kind of joke," Ron muttered, and turned around to meet the eyes of Harry, Hermione and Mrs Weasley. None of them cracked even the smallest of smiles, and Hermione looked very near tears, eyes rimmed with red.

"It's no joke, Ron," replied Hermione in a whisper, sniffling lightly and staring at her feet.

"No," he snapped, rounding on Hermione, "If this- if this was true, as you say- t-then Kingsley would fix it! He's Minister!"

A tall, thin frame with horn-rimmed glasses appeared behind Ron, wearing the official Ministry robes, mouth pressed into a tight line. All four heads snapped to him. "Kingsley was against it," began Percy. Instead of groaning, like Ron would do every time his elder brother would talk, he shut his mouth and listened. "But the Wizengamot outvoted him. It is official. Everyone who was legally engaged or married before the news was announced is exempt, so that includes Audrey and I, George and Angelina, Bill and Fleur, and Harry and Ginny, seeing as he proposed last month."

Nobody made a single sound, so Percy continued speaking in a sombre tone.

"The employees at the Ministry are wreaking havoc, and Kingsley's been getting infuriated owls every second of the day. As much as I hate to say this, but we can't change this."

Again, his announcement was replied with utter, shocked silence. After a few tense minutes, a chair scraping tile brought them out of their reverie, and Hermione stood up, face expressionless, and headed towards the front door of the Burrow.

"Hermione, dear, where are you going?" called Mrs Weasley weakly, her voice faltering.

"To think," Hermione replied, vowing to maintain her calm mantra until she got outside,

* * *

Icy water poured onto the rocks where she was sitting, drenching her sneaker-clad feet and sending cold shivers down her spine. Hermione was sitting on jagged rocks, watching the violate water rise and fall against the rocky shore, curled up onto a ball, bushy hair caught by the wind and blowing violently over her right shoulder.

She was cold, freezing, in fact, but she wasn't going back to the Burrow, not right now. The twins would find out, and Luna, and Neville, and... she had such grande plans for her life. Illustrious career, _loving _husband, maybe beautiful children, with her soft brown eyes.

It had all come a little too fast, she thought. Twelve hours ago, she was chatting amicably with Ginny in the latter girl's bedroom, about boys of many things, and now! Now she was supposed to get a _letter, _a letter that would dictate who she married and who she loved, and as far as Hermione Jean Granger knew, love couldn't be dictated.

"Hermione?" an impossibly soft voice called out. She recognized the voice, sort of... but there was something oddly different...

A silky, midnight blue cloak wrapped around her shoulders from behind, smelling slightly like smoke, and she stood up, her body tensing slightly and her knees cracking from the lack of use. Without even looking behind to who had given her the warm piece of fabric, she wound it around herself even tighter, not realizing until now that she was chilled to the bone, shaking.

"Hermione, are you alright?" the voice called out again, and she turned around slowly, trying not to fall as she was still standing on the rocky beach.

Her heart skipped a few beats - no, stopped completely - when she saw the cloak-giver. _Fred. _

"Fred?" she croaked, her voice hoarse with disuse. She'd been sitting at the beach for hours, in the same position. That's what had sounded differently about the voice - it wasn't his usual incriminating tone, joking and easy, laughing and carefree. For the first time in ages, he looked... solemn. And his twin wasn't with him.

"In the flesh." he smiled weakly, giving her a pained, worried expression. She knit her eyebrows together.

"How did you know I was here?" asked Hermione, positively miffed.

"I come here too, to think sometimes," he started, still soft, "it's far enough away from the Burrow so that no one will bother you, but it's not too far, and since I presumed you don't blow off steam by flying, I came here."

"Thanks, then," she replied, quiet. "I've never..." she trailed off.

"Seen this side of me before," he finished, and shrugged, returning to his joking demeanour. "I've got a not-so-serious reputation to maintain, Granger, I'm not like this too often."

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed. Please take the time to review._


	3. borderline madness

**Hope you like. I like the way this story is going so far, and if you wouldn't mind taking the time to review, that'd be great.**

Hermione was still quite numb. She didn't know what to do, or what to think, and could barely even register the fact that Fred Weasley wasn't making one of his usual crude jokes that would get him an annoyed smack on the arm.

For once, it seemed he was just as shocked as her.

Because, really, who wouldn't be? Hermione was very _ambitious -_ not Percy-there's-something-stuck-up-his-arse kind of ambitious, but completely knowing and having her whole life mapped ahead out for her, and she didn't take change - this kind of overwhelming, life-making change easily. She was Hermione Granger, and she didn't take things like this in stride. The only reason she knew it was actually happening, not some sort of daydream, was the twins.

They weren't very good actors. If they had done something, you would know it, because they'd be smirking and shooting each other glances (twin telepathy, Hermione thought) and they wouldn't be... like this. This, as in looking solemn, and for the first time ever, forlorn. It didn't suit them at all.

Walking back to the Burrow, Fred's cloak wound tightly around her petite shoulders,`she repeatedly pinched her wrist, watching as a patch turned splotchy red and hoping that she'd wake up from all that pinching. Sighing loudly enough for Fred to look at her, confused, she gave up and dropped both of her arms to her side and continued marching to the Burrow in a tense silence that neither wanted to interrupt.

Hermione concentrated on the thumping of her feet against the dirt, sinking slightly into the damp earth because of the light rain that would no doubt, make her hair extremely frizzy later.

When they arrived back at the creaky, lopsided building, Fred pushed the door open ahead of her.

"After you," he said quietly, and Hermione furrowed her eyebrow in confusion, as to why he'd hold a door open (he was Fred Weasley, did she need reminding?) but accepted the offer anyways and stepped into the Burrow after a meek, "Thanks."

She had barely glimpsed the sitting room when a petite, delicate hand grabbed her forearm - Ginny - and began to literally drag her up the stairway with loud thumps and a _shh _from Percy.

"Wha- where are we going?"

"To talk," replied Ginny shortly, and locked the door with a lazy flick of her wand after both her and Hermione were seated comfortably on the bed.

"And what do you want to talk about?" asked Hermione, but she had a pretty good idea in mind as to what Ginny was going to babble to her about.

"You know, this morning. The new law," replied Ginny with an arched eyebrow raised. "You must know who you want to be paired with, Hermione."

"I haven't given it much thought. I've been pretty much wallowing in my self-pity for the last few hours," stated Hermione sarcastically, still wondering why Ginny dragged her up here.

"Well don't," said Ginny forcefully. "There's alot of people who're going through the same thing as you, so don't feel bad... of course, if you get paired with Crabbe or Goyle, feel free to wallow in self-pity."

Only Ginny could underline a bad situation and point out the worst. "Don't jinx it."

"I only said _if," _Ginny emphasized, rolling her eyes. "I doubt they will. Worst is you'll be paired with Cormac McLaggen or something."

"Just as bad," Hermione pointed out. He was (as mentioned before) completely vile. Looks don't equal personality, apparently.

"I know, but what I'm trying to say is who you'd _pick _if you had a choice."

"Well, since I don't have a choice," Hermione laughed bitterly, "I don't suppose I can pick."

"_If. If _you could."

Her friendship with Ron was platonic, and that was all. They were very brother-and-sister like, and the same went for her and Harry. "Other than creepy old gits, anyone," seeing Ginny's sceptical look, she specified, "barring Harry and Ron, cause they're like my brothers, Slytherin's, maniacals like Percy, and Cormac McLaggen."

"Hmm... so you aren't ruling out any of my other brothers?"

"What?"

"It's a possibility."

* * *

The more thought Hermione gave the matter, the more she knew Ginny was right. It _was _a possibility... only with Fred... what? No, that absolutely couldn't happen. She was ying and he was yang. He was the sun and she was the moon. He was Quidditch and jokes and she was books and seriousness. Even the _Ministry _themselves could see it. Hermione Granger and Fred Weasley had the least in common of every human being possible.

Plus, he was Ron's brother, and wouldn't that be weird? But she could imagine ginger children, with flaming hair and her brown doe eyes...

Shaking her head ardently, she rid herself of those images. That wouldn't happen. Damn Ginny and putting those insane, unimaginable ideas into her head. Things that would never, in a million years, happen. Hermione was repeating mentally, over and over, that she would marry some nice guy that would understand her, and eventually, she'd fall in love with him.

Yeah, that was going to happen.


	4. day and night

She clicked on the lamp and a dim light flickered across the room. Lying back on the throw pillows of her bed, Hermione grabbed a time-worn, very loved hardcover book from her nightstand and flipped through the pages, stopping somewhere halfway through _Hogwarts: A History _and began to read. It was one of the only ways to calm herself down, other than taking a shower and listening to the radio.

The letters were supposed to arrive tommorrow, and Mrs Weasley had graciously invited her over to the Burrow tomorrow to open the letters, along with Ron, Fred, Luna and Neville. It had seemed most likely that she'd be paired up with Ron - being the other two of the Golden Trio - but it would just be _weird _for Hermione. Ron was her brother in all but blood, and she didn't (and couldn't) see him any other way.

Hermione knew it wouldn't seem real until the letters actually came, and she was actually forced to marry somebody. She couldn't stand other people dictating her life- and this was exactly what they were doing. It was _forced _marriage, and it was wrong, it wasn't moral.

After the reading calmed down her racing heart and nerves, she placed the book back on the nightstand and clicked the light off, shutting the curtains with a lazy flick of her wand and shuffled gently onto her side, getting comfortable and sinking into the blankets as sleep overcame her.

* * *

Muggle alarm clocks never fail, thought Hermione. The one day she wanted a lie-in, and it happened to go off because she forgot to turn it off before. Grumbling lazily, she shifted in her bed and swung her legs over the edge, wincing slightly as the bones in her legs and back cracked loudly. Yawning, she padded to the shower.

After taking a longer shower than she usually would (it _was _the weekend) Hermione put on a kettle and dryed her hair, applying a small amount of Sleezeaky's into her hair, taming it just a little bit so she could put it up in a topknot at the top of her head. Drinking her tea, she ran her fingers through her still-frizzy hair.

Today was the day she'd find out. The day that would, presumably, change the rest of her life. Her new _husband_. Husband was a term endeared with love and affection - but would that really be the case? Hermione was understandably anxious, and she completely loathed everyone who had gotten married the previous year before (Percy and George) and who were engaged (Harry and Ginny - a _month _before!). They wouldn't have to marry someone that they might not know. They were perfectly fine with their own spouse or fiancee or whatever.

Hermione was seriously considering moving to France and living with cats her whole life, if she could get away from this law. She was a passionate person, about things she did and did not believe in... and this was wrong. Completely, utterly wrong in all respects. She couldn't get over the fact that they were forcing her to marry someone she _doesn't _love.

Three days ago, this wasn't happening. Now, it was. The least the Ministry could have done was provided more time. More time to let the little tidbit of _life changing _information sink. Closing her eyes and taking deep, drawing breaths, Hermione found her wand and Apparated to the Burrow sitting room.

" 'Mione!" a familiar voice called, and Hermione smiled slightly when Ginny drew her into a brief, flitting hug, pausing slightly to look Hermione in the eyes, worry etched across her features. "It'll be alright, Hermione, don't worry."

'When are the letters getting here, Ginny?"

Another different voice answered her questions. Percy strode into the room, hair impeccable and robes straightened. "They should be here any minute now. Hermione, I wouldn't worry about having to go back to your own flat. The owl coming to deliver your letter should automatically know you're here."

She nodded silently and found her way to the kitchen.

They gathered around the table; herself, Ginny, Ron, Mrs Weasley, Luna, Neville, Harry, the twins (it wouldn't be the same with only one of them) and Percy, who absolutely insisted he be there.

There was a tense silence as they waited for the letters to come; Mrs Weasley had made tea, but Hermione's throat seemed to be closing on her, and she rolled the cup between her hands, drumming her fingers on her had gave her a worried, anxious look, but she just kept staring at the kitchen table, wishing the letters would come already so they wouldn't have to sit there, completely silent and tense.

After minutes of the silent waiting, a puffy brown owl with sleek feathers made its way through the kitchen window of the Burrow, depositing a stack of five thick envelopes sealed with blue; Hermione, Ron, Fred, Neville and Luna. Basically, the little piece of parchment that would change her life. Nobody touched their own letter - waiting for Mrs Weasley's say-so. She didn't touch it, not even when Percy pushed hers in front of her.

"I don't want to open this," Hermione stated suddenly, breaking the silence. Every eye in the room turned to her, and Ron knitted his eyebrows together, confused.

Mrs Weasley gave her a sympathetic look. "I know, dear, but it's mandatory... you will have to..."

"Hermione, it's best that you just open it before you get yourself all winded up into thinking that you'll marry Malfoy or something," George shrugged, which earned him a glare from his mother and Ginny's rolling of eyes and strangely emitted no response from his brother.

"I know," she sighed, "it's just when we open this - that's it, our lives are going to change forever. I can't get over that. I thought - I thought I'd actually be getting married to someone I love, not like this... not forced to do anything."

"It is rather unfortunate," piped in Luna, speaking for the first time. "But remember, Hermione, you'll always have us, your friends, even if you aren't satisfied with the result of the pairing." Neville nodded earnestly with her words.

"Alright," interrupted Ginny quickly, "just get this over with,please. We can do the friends-forever part later."

Hermione closed her eyes and drew in a single, deep breath. trying to calm her fluttering heartbeat. The exact words of the Ministry's announcement were coming back to her now - _will be matched to a pure-blood or half-blood. _Well, that ruled out anyone who would remotely grasp her Muggle traditions.

Deciding that she'd open the letter before going insane, she broke the seal quickly and pulled out the parchment along with everybody else, her eyes flitting quickly over the words of the letter.

_**Miss Hermione Granger,**_

_ We are pleased to inform you that by the decree of the Marriage Law, as you are a Muggleborn, you will be marrying a half-blood or pureblood on the Ministry approved date of September 11th, 1999. If a date interferes with any previous arrangements, you will be able to appeal to the Ministry._

_ As informed by the head of the newly-instated Magical Marriage Department, you will be married to..._

**Fred Weasley. **

She sucked in a breath, and read over the page once more, not daring to actually look up, ignoring the conversations that had started around her. _Surely _this wasn't real? She was imagining things. It wasn't... well, it could be worse... but with him! They had never had an actual, civilized conversation without them making some stupid joke about her bickering friendship with Ron and about _ickle Prefect bookworm stuck-up know it all _Hermione.

"-and you, dear, Hermione? What about you?" Mrs Weasley's patient voice jolted her out of her musings, and Hermione took another shaky breath, stabilizing her shaking hands.

Not trusting herself to speak, Hermione shook her head slowly, closing her eyes. She hadn't even looked in Fred's direction, and had completely shifted her body around so that she was facing Mrs Weasley and her back was facing him.

"I need to get some space." Hermione stood up suddenly and dashed from the room, letter clutched in her hand, making her way to the front door and sliding out, well aware that everyone's eyes were following her.

* * *

It had always been a habit, even when she was little. Hermione always had a diary - the things she couldn't and didn't talk about with Ginny, stuff that after she got off her chest she'd feel much, much lighter. Her quill paused, she looked down at what she had written.

_ It's not that I'm upset with who I'll be... sharing my life with. I don't know him that well, and he doesn't know me, and we're completely unalike. I feel bad, I really do, for walking out at the Burrow and not telling anybody - but I imagine Fred told them, seeing as he got me. I wonder how he thinks - probably disappointed, I bet. Wanted more. Someone better for him, because him and I, we're like the day and night. _

_ I'm confused, and I'm usually never confused. I don't know what I should feel - happy, because I'm not marrying some prejudiced Slytherin pureblood git? Or disappointment, because I'm matched with someone who might never understand me?_

_ I'm not ready for this._

* * *

_** Review, please. Note that I was listening to Seven Devils by Florence and the Machine and Change by Churchill (amazing bands, by the way) while writing this, so... yeah.**_


	5. little surprise

_Hermione,_

_ I know this situation isn't ideal for either of us. If it's any comfort to you, I haven't told anybody except for George. I kept, you know, quiet. Which is very unusual for me._

_ I know you need some time to think. I do too. It's a lot to process, and I understand you needing some air, but we're going to need to talk about this sometime._

_ I thought I would clue you in on everybody else's matches. Ron got Demelza Robins, a girl who used to play on the Gryffindor Quidditch team with him, and Luna and Neville got each other (they're both very pleased). And obviously we got each other._

_ At least you didn't get Crabbe or Goyle, or even George (even though he's exempt). I am, as you know, the better looking twin._

_ From,_

_You-Know-Who_

_(Just joking, Hermione, it's Fred.)_

Hermione straightened her back and reread the note. Folding it tenderly, she tucked it in a pocket of her robes. She had been at her flat for the last hour, curled up on the couch and not making any movements at all, just letting herself think and think and think, needing to be alone. Wincing as the kinks in her back popped loudly, she had noticed a large brown tawny owl perched on her windowsill with a letter clutched in it's beak. Looking at the writing on the envelope, she tried to scrutinize who's handwriting it was - not one she recognized. Ripping the letter open, Hermione realized moments later that it was from none other than her current _fiance. _The person she didn't love but would be marrying anyways in a few months.

After deciding that ultimately she could have gotten worse and shouldn't be moping around like she was going to marry Malfoy, Hermione Apparated back to the front door of the Burrow. Tensing slightly, she braced herself for what was going to come next.

"Hermione!" A smiling Mrs Weasley embraced her. There was only a few people left at the Burrow - Ron, who was currently being tormented by the Weasley twins (who hadn't noticed her arrival) and Ginny, who looked like she was boring Harry to death with wedding plans, scribbling down the occasional note and asking Harry for his opinion.

"Hey Mrs Weasley," Hermione laughed, and that's when the others noticed her arrival. Ginny dropped her quill and made her way up to Hermione.

"So," Ginny prompted, face etched with excitement, "who'd you get?" Not feeling confortable with the chaos to come if she said it out loud, Hermione wriggled around in her pockets and found the letter, handing it silently to Ginny.

Before Ginny could react, Fred came forth to talk to Hermione. "Poor Demelza," he shook his head slowly. "What a dolt she's going to be marrying." He said nothing about their impending marriage, and his faced showed nothing of the sort - very good at bluffing_, _Hermione thought.

Just at that moment, Ginny looked up from the letter. "Oh. My. Godric," she murmured. "Never in a million years, would I have thought..." Ginny looked over at Hermione, brow crinkled. Hermione could practically see the gears turning in her head.

She stared at her feet and blushed.

"Fred," Mrs Weasley breathed, grinning, (Hermione had the feeling she wanted her to become an _actual _Weasley sooner or later) "you and Fred?"

_Fred _rolled his eyes - his sister and mother were being heavily dramatic - and spoke up. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to take my new fiancee on a walk where she won't be bothered by wedding plans that have probably already started."

* * *

"I'm sorry-" he started as soon as they were out the front door of the Burrow.

"No, don't be," laughed Hermione. "You're mum is going to go insane, she was always dropping hints about me being an _official Weasley. _Just not the son she'd think, I guess."

"She's going positively insane, Granger," he agreed, "what with Ron's wedding and Ginny's wedding, mum's doing her nut planning weddings."

She was a bit confused at his very light-hearted manner - but really, when had he ever been extremely serious? Except for that one time... she shook her head. "And... what do you think about, you know, all of this?"

Fred shrugged. "I don't know, I guess the reality of it hasn't sunk in. I'm glad I won't be marrying some old toad," Hermione laughed, "and face it, Granger, you may not want to admit it but you're not all that bad looking."

She blushed, in spite of herself. "I... I haven't had a boyfriend in years, Fred, come off it. Anyways we're... just so different, you know? Like opposites."

He gave her a skeptical look. "I don't see how we're complete opposites."

"List ten things we have in common."

Fred sat down abruptly on the grass, cross legged. Hermione tentatively sat a few feet away. "Alright. One; we both have magical ability." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Two: _I'm _extremely good looking," he winked, and she laughed, "and so are you. Three; me, you and George are the only three people who can infuriate Percy to no extent, you and him with the debating about _everything_.. and us, well just us. Four; the only person who's anger you fear is my mum's. Me too. Five; we both have odd hair," Hermione groaned, running her fingers through her very messy curls, "Six; we were both in the DA together. Seven; we fought together in the Battle of Hogwarts together. Eight-"

"Right, I get it," she laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Fred smiled smugly. "See?" His expression changed quickly, though, and his eyebrows knit together. "Joking aside, what do you think about this, Hermione?"

Her expression changed to match his. "I... this is a huge change, you know? I never would have imagined, and what if we constantly argue and don't get on very well? I don't- didn't - want to get married until I had established my life, and really? I'm only twenty, you know. And t-there's so much to do, and I..." her voice faded out, unsure what to say next.

"I may seem kind of-" he coughed, this was clearly uncomfortable for him, "...you know. Not serious at all. But I'm the kind of guy that's always going to treat a girl right. Even if you do hex me for whatever."

"Only for a few things," she joked, and he gaped at her for a moment (no doubt surprised _Hermione _had told a joke) before laughing alongside her.

As the walk went on, the two laughed and joked, but also discussed more serious matters. Hermione found Fred was much easier to talk to that they weren't in Hogwarts, she a nagging prefect and him and his twin driving her positively _mad. _He wasn't all that bad of a person, really... not that he'd ever been.

And she wasn't going to deny that he _was _attractive. Roguish grin, tall and lean but not overly-muscular like Charlie and not lanky like Percy and Ron. His hair fell messily to about his jawbone, and his eyes, a hazel color flecked with warm brown, were always sparkling and light.

* * *

The two had returned to the Burrow a few hours later feeling much, much better (maybe this would really work out) but found themselves in the midst of questions. Especially Ron's questions.

"What the hell?" he questioned, eyes narrowing, when a nervous Hermione told him the news. They were all seated in the sitting room; Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Fred, who told the rest of them that George was probably off with Angelina. "Why him?"

"Why's it matter to you, mate?" Harry had asked, shocked with Ron's anger. "You know he'll treat her right."

"But that's... that's," Ron sputtered, unable to get the words out. "That's my brother."

Hermione barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "Clever observation, Ron. I really had no idea, what with the red hair and all." Ginny snickered.

"Why him, though, Hermione?"

It was Ginny who responded this time. "You prat, you know she couldn't choose. Would you rather her be betrothed to some slime like Malfoy? I think not."

"Whatever," Ron grumbled, dropping the matter.

* * *

"So," Fred had started, once Ginny and Harry left the sitting room along with Ron, "since, you know, we're engaged and you'll be having my kids and all, what do you say to a first date?"

"It was bound to happen," Hermione replied, "but sure."

Seeing her confused expression, he started talking. "You know, we'll make this work. We just need to get to know each other better."

She nodded in agreement. "How about we start right now?"

"What?"

"Ask me something."

"Right-o. Favorite color?"

"Blue. Favorite subject?"

"Does going to Hogsmeade count? If not, then none," Hermione laughed. "This is an awkward question to ask, but... have you done it before?"

"Fred!' Hermione gaped, guessing what _it _meant.

"I'll need to know sooner or later, love," he joked, returning to his usual un-awkward persona.

Hermione mumbled something unintelligible.

"What?"

"Yes," she murmured, very discreetly. "But don't ask me any more of those questions."

"Sure won't," he grinned, and Hermione had a feeling that he certainly _would. _"Favorite place in the whole entire world, Muggle or magical?"

She pondered the question for a few moments, all embarrassment of before gone. "Well," she began, unsure, but suddenly Hermione remembered something... "My grandmother's cottage up in Grimsby, I love it up there... yours?"

"There was a tree house George and I built when we were kids, getting help from Bill and Charlie, who could already magic stuff around," said Fred. " 'round here, of course. Second to that, obviously, is here, and after that is the shop."

"That sounds neat," said Hermione.

"Certainly is, Miss Granger," he grinned. "So, what do you wanna do for that date?"

* * *

_ I could have added a little more, but it would have just been a filler, so I've added that to the next chapter. Reviews would be lovely, please. Written, as you should all know by now, for the Joys of Arranged Marriage Competition, and the 100k fic Competition. In the review, tell me what you think will happen next! x_


	6. first date

_July 1999_

"Hermione? Hermione? _Hermione, can you please spare me two seconds away from your precious, precious book?_"

"Wha- oh, sorry, Fred. Er - what would you like to say?"

"So how about Thursday?"

"Hmm? For what?'

"For our first date, fiancee. Pick you up at seven?"

"Sure."

Fred winked cheekily.

* * *

Her hair was just _horrible. _Right now, Hermione wished she had the silky, smooth straight hair of Ginny, or even the simple, scraggly waves of Luna's. Because no matter how much Sleezeaky's potion she used, her hair was still a birds' nest. Her face looked fine. In terms of makeup, less was more. Her blouse accentuated her curves nicely, and Hermione had to admit that the washed-out Muggle jeans she was wearing did favors for her legs.

But her hair was the biggest pain of all. _Why, why couldn't she have manageable hair? _It was today, her first date with her fiance (words she thought she'd never think) and her already messy curls looked like something exploded in them, strands everywhere. She didn't really fancy looking like a banshee on a date.

Sighing heavily, she ran her fingers through her hair again, trying desperately to tame the frizzy mess. Rather than leaving it up, she conjured an elastic and wrapped her hair up in a simple topknot, not contending to bother with her hair. She really, really didn't want to.

After finishing with her infuriating hair, Hermione went for one last glance in her full length mirror. Her outfit was as good as it was going to get (she dressed relatively low-key) and her hair... well, she didn't exactly want to think of her flaws right now. Hermione approved herself as decent, and casually began tidying up the raging mess - she might have picked up Ron's cleaning habits - that she called a flat, effectively calming down her nerves, which were like live wires in her body at the moment.

Why was she so nervous? It was just Fred. _Just Fred. _He'd known her since her first year, nine years ago. He'd seen her go from a prudish bookworm to a confident young woman who reached a place of high authority. But with all of these pre-date jitters, Hermione reminded herself of a lovesick teenager. Amicably shelving out of place books, she heard a quick rapping at the door of her flat. _He was here._

Swallowing the lump in her throat, and smoothing out her shirt as a sign of nervousness, Hermione turned the doorknob to see a grinning (more anxious than usual, she noticed) Fred Weasley, looking happy but slightly uncomfortable himself. This was, after all, like a date with his sister - which was what he _had _considered Hermione - until his perspective began to change. She wasn't really _Hermione Granger, _Ron's best-friend-slash-whatever-the-hell-they-are, but she was _Hermione, _the slightly curvy, intellectual witch with _very, very _lovely chocolate brown eyes and killer legs now.

"You look," he blinked, and swallowed, Hermione confused (it took _alot _to make a Weasley twin nervous) "gorgeous, Hermione."

She gave him a beaming smile, and he felt something stirring in his stomach that he'd never really felt before. He pushed the feeling away. _It wasn't like that._ "You don't look too shabby youself, Mr Weasley," Hermione responded ardently, a slight blush creeping upon her cheeks from his previous statement.

"Ah," replied Fred, "but when does a dashing chap such as myself look anything other than bad?"

Instead of making a funny retort, like he'd anticipated, she responded with a much more intense, "True."

After a couple of awkward seconds of Fred not saying anything, Hermione once again broke the silence. "Ready, Freddie?" He chuckled at the rhyme, and offered his arm to her, which she took gingerly, and felt the familiar tug of Apparation.

* * *

When the world re-materialized in front of her, she noticed she was standing in a grassy clearing, a light breeze ruffling the long stands of grass and beams from the sunset warming her skin. It was very picturesque, and the best thing was that it wasn't overdone _or _cliche; Hermione couldn't stand either of that. The smell of lavender and honeysuckle wafted through the air. It was probably one of the most magical places she'd ever seen, even if she was using the term metaphorically.

"You like it?" He turned and grinned at her, eyes sparkling

She hadn't been planning on it, but she leaned up and pecked him on the cheek, shocking both herself and him, whilst turning red and replying with, "It's lovely."

"Good, because we're having a picnic."

"So, what's new, Granger?'

Her legs were stretched out on the grass, shoes kicked off lazily, and she was supporting herself with her elbows, peering at him. "Well, first, I'd quite like it if you called me by my first name."

He laughed. "Okay, Herms."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not that. _Hermione. _Do you have trouble comprehending that, Fred?"

Fred rolled his eyes right back at her. "Hey, I'm not as bad as Krum -_ Hermy-o-ninny_." He mocked playfully.

She laughed, amused.

The two chatted easily, and Hermione found herself pleasantly surprised that he was much easier to connect to on an intellectual level. She didn't have to downplay things for him, and despite his reputation he was actually quite smart. It could be as if they were going out on a real date, that things weren't forced by the Ministry and she wasn't supposed to be marrying him within a set amount of time.

"You know, I really did have a great time," Hermione remarked thoughtfully, lying alongside Fred in the grassy field, staring up at the setting sun.

"Me too," he agreed. "So, how about that second date?"

It wasn't like she was going to say no to her fiance (the word still felt weird, even in her head), but Hermione quickly imagined not being in the arranged marriage mess, and replied with a definite, "Yes."

His eyes twinkled, a lovely deep brown. He looked considerably happy, and she felt her cheeks heating up - what was wrong with her? She _never _blushed this much.

* * *

"So?" an excited voice squealed, and Hermione felt the urge to chuck a pillow in Ginny's direction. Sure, the girl was her best friend, but this was _her brother _they were talking about, and it was extremely awkward.

Even more so, especially when Fred brought her back to the Burrow for dinner and barely got out an 'I had fun,' before one Ginny Weasley dragged Hermione up the stairs to her room once again.

It felt a little bit like deja vu.

"So?" said Hermione dryly.

"Tell me about it," Ginny crossed her legs, evidently getting prepared for some girl talk.

"No," responded Hermione, "it's your brother... and that's just awkward."

"What if I started telling you all of the things Harry and I got up to together? Once, we-"

"I get it, Ginny," grumbled Hermione.

"Exactly. He's like your brother. I don't want to know anything too...auh, but I wanna hear about it! Leave out the shagging, though, please."

The other girl's face twisted into disgust, cheeks burning red. "We did nothing of that sort, Ginny! A first date, really, who do you think I am? It was very lovely, we had a picnic and talked. He's great to talk to, and he didn't try anything."

"What'd he say? Did he kiss you?" Ginny questioned.

"Honestly, Ginny, nose out," laughed Hermione. "But very nice things, and no. May I ask how your wedding planning is going? Driving Harry insane yet?"

Ginny latched onto the change of topic almost immediately, and began chatting amicably and so quickly Hermione had to strain to hear her right. "-but it's driving me and Harry barmy, Mum's a raging psychopath when it comes to weddings, she'll be planning her grandbabies' weddings as soon as she gets some-"

"HERMIONE AND GINNY, DINNER'S READY!" Mrs Weasley called, effectively cutting off Ginny's rambling.

* * *

Hermione was seated directly across from Fred, who had decided it was his mission to distract her and kept nudging her foot and sending her overly-exaggurated winks and cheeky grins, which she'd roll her eyes to.

Only Fred, however, picked up the slight blush that would spread across her cheeks whenever he nudged her foot, or the way she affectionately rolled her eyes and would smile while doing so.

He was good-looking, no doubt... but why was she suddenly feeling this way?

* * *

_Any ideas? Favorite sentence/ bit of the chapter? Tell me in a review. Disclaimer, I am not JKR guys. Written, as you all know, for the 100k multi chap competition and the Joys of Arranged Marriages challenge over on HPFC, check it out, it's great over there. Clue for those of you who may be lost; they're getting married on Sept. 11 Em x_


	7. balcony talk

_Note; chapter edited on 3/11/13._

Harry fidgeted nervously, and Fred raised an eyebrow.

The former cleared his throat, and began to speak. "So, basically, what I've came to say - and this is pretty pointless, considering I'm marrying your little sister - is that if you ever, _ever, _hurt Hermione, and this is coming from her closest thing to a brother, that the Horcrux hunt'll look like a vacation compared to what I'll do to you."

"Point taken, Potter. It would suit you well to remember that Ginny has six brothers; a curse breaker, a dragon tamer, a high-up Ministry worker, the owners of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, prime joke shop, and your best mate, who happens to be an Auror alongside you. You shall not be the Boy Who Lived anymore if you hurt Ginny in any sense."

"I think my real worry would be Ginny herself," added Harry.

"Right you are, mate," Fred agreed, smoothing out his magenta work robes and strutting over to the cash of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, effectively shooing Verity to the back to restock shelves. He'd been in a good mood lately (not that he ever wasn't) and no one was really able to pinpoint why, except for George.

Somehow, she'd managed to worm her way into his head, and suddenly he wasn't as put off as to marrying her than he was before. He knew Fred had some underlying thought about how he'd be alone forever, and the law was changing that… for better and for worse. Plus, George knew Fred didn't have concrete feelings for her, and he knew Fred like the back of his hand... and he could tell these kinds of things whereas dense Ron wouldn't have a clue.

Fred was looking at the positives, if George had to guess, instead of the negatives. He was probably thinking that it's better he got Hermione than one of those cold, detached Slytherin girls they would infuriate while in Hogwarts.

It was kind of a relief to George, in a way; they had shared everything together, and George wanted his brother to find the kind of love he had found with Angelina. Hopefully it would work out with him and Hermione - no matter his reputation, Fred wasn't the kind of person to just ditch women. He had been raised by Mrs. Weasley, after all.

* * *

Hermione had a tendency to over think things. And that's exactly what she was doing at the moment - exhausting herself mentally. Sprawled out on the couch, paperwork done and stacked neatly on the counter, Hermione let her thoughts drift. First of all, she didn't know the first thing about sex, and here she was, being married in a few weeks and have to consummate _weekly. _It was one of those things, however, that she didn't even dare get from a book. His playboy persona told her that he probably had experience, too.

If what Lavender and Parvati gossiped about whilst in school was correct.

She really _hated _not knowing these kinds of things, and she was too prideful to actually ask someone, or buy a book on the subject, so it was going to be quite awkward. Hermione didn't even have a single clue, except for that awkward encounter with Dean Thomas a few years ago... and that didn't go very well. But at the current moment, she decided to push the thought into an imaginary closet and focus on the tedious, boring task at hand.

_Wedding planning. _

* * *

_Grimmauld Place_

Hermione liked parties, yes, but this one was way out of hand.

It was Harry and Ginny's engagement party, which had been planned before the law came into effect.

The party had started out great; mingling, catching up with old friends. She had learned that Katie Bell married Oliver Wood about six months previous, and that Lee and Alicia – who was currently dating Justin Finch-Fletchley – had split up. She never told anyone she was engaged to Fred (surely he'd do that himself) and instead offered the person asking a wry smile and asked how life was going, and she would chat amicably with people.

But once the Firewhisky started going around, and she'd overheard Anthony Goldstein – extremely drunk – try to convince Luna and the Patil twins to play a game of Muggle strip poker, she decided enough was enough.

Hermione had squeezed her way through the crowd, ignoring the accidental elbowings and a fair few couples who were passionately locked in embrace, and getting someone's warm Butterbeer sloshed onto her dress. In a fit of annoyance, Hermione muttered a curse word she wouldn't normally use and flicked her wand, removing the wet stain and continued to sqeeze through the crowd. (How many people did Harry and Ginny know, anyways?)

The stairwell of Grimmauld Place was completely empty, and so Hermione made her way up without running into anybody, while reminiscing a little bit about the days she'd spent here, the summer before fifth year - how the twins would Apparate everywhere, much to the chagrin of Mrs Weasley, and the late-night girl talks her and Ginny would engage in; it was then she was glad she had a female friend. You just couldn't talk about _boys with _boys.

The stairwell was dusty, though, even after all the post-war renovating – some things never change – and Hermione had to blink a few times to clear her vision.

On the third landing, she turned into what she remembered as the parlor – a fair sized room stacked with musty old furniture covered with white sheets and an arched glass door on the far wall leading out to a balcony, hidden by heavy midnight-blue moth-eaten curtains.

Pulling the curtains aside and slipping through the glass door onto the balcony, Hermione let out a content sigh as the cool, refreshing breeze hit her. She really should have came out here earlier; this was much better than a stuffy party. It was around midnight, and the sky was cloudless, stars twinkling and forming patterns and the pale grey half-moon casting a washed-out glow upon her face. She didn't feel as stuffy and sweaty as she did inside, and closed her eyes, slipping out of the heels she had donned for the occasional and feeling a little bit more happier as the throbbing in her feet (from those bloody torture devices Ginny called shoes) subsided.

That was how Fred found her, a few minutes later, (he had came to escape the wrath of a very, very, very drunk Angelina) undone hair ruffling in the breeze, standing barefoot in the moon's light, which casted a dim light on her Gryffindor-scarlet dress.

"How long have you been out here?"

She had no idea he was there, and instinctively, she flinched almost comically, pivoting around and holding her the wand at the ready, eyes narrowed until Hermione recognized him, and untensed.

"Fred," she gasped, lowering her wand as her cheeks flushed pink. "You scared me."

He grinned. "Sorry 'bout that. You didn't answer my question, though." Fred gave her an expectant look, eyebrows raised

"Oh," she replied, heart still beating fast from the recent scare. "Only about five minutes. Party was driving me mad."

"I could say the same," he had replied, a little more quietly than usual – like he was embarrassed or something, noted Hermione mentally.

"A Weasley twin," she started, raising her eyebrows, "missing out on a party? If I didn't see it, I wouldn't believe it."

"Ah, well, there are only so many times one person can trick someone else into eating a Canary Cream," laughed Fred. "Anyways, I was being chased by a very irate Angelina, who had one too many shots of Firewhisky and thought I was Charliew, who had done something or the other to bother her."

Hermione snorted, in an unfeminine fashion. "That must've been fun."

Fred looked her over, remaining silent for a few moments before asking her another question. "Why haven't you just Apparated home or something? You'd probably rather that than the balcony."

She shrugged casually, and leaned against the edge of the balcony, facing him. "I promised Harry I would help him clean up afterwords, but I saw him and Ginny leave the sitting room, where everybody is, and I haven't seen them since, so I'm pretty sure I'll be doing all the cleaning. Why're you still here?"

"Promised George I would wait for him, and he's too busy trying to calm down and sober up his drunk wife."

"Oh."

They lapsed into a bit of an awkward silence, Fred jamming his hands into his pockets, rolling back and forth on his heels, and Hermione still barefoot, enjoying the breeze against her slightly sweaty skin, but starting to feel a slight chill as goosebumps crawwled their way up her bare arms.

She was deep in thought, but she kept straying to different subjects. Hermione just couldn't focus, and her mind felt like a wireless that was repeatedly being changed to different stations.

"Knut for your thoughts?" said Hermione softly, breaking her own thoughts.

"Just thinking about the future."

"Mmm."

"It's kind of hard to come to terms with it, now," Hermione didn't even need to ask what he was talking about – they both knew. "I would have rathered proposing to a girl and getting married on my own terms, but it's the Ministry's… and I can't really do anything about that."

Hermione bit her lip, almost drawing blood, and cast her eyes downward.

"I'm sorry," she said eventually, not knowing what else to say.

"For what?"

"That you're stuck with me," replied Hermione, still speaking in a quiet tone. "I'm sure you would have rathered someone you got along with better; someone prettier and someone who shares the same interests as you, rather than me, that know-it-all frizzy haired bookworm who constantly told you off during school and bored the hell out of you." It was the first time she had voiced her insecurities to anyone, and she was quite sure he would agree with her - that's why what came next shocked her.

"Honestly, Hermione?" Fred laughed, disbelievingly. "First of all, I can't believe you just swore. Ron's rubbing off on you. Second, don't worry about not being pretty, because you have that down quite well. And last but not least, just because we don't share the same interests and occasionally don't get along doesn't mean anything. I'd rather be challenged by your smarts than be engaged to a girl who doesn't know right to left."

"Wow," whispered Hermione,"you're sure good at making a girl feel better about herself." Regardless, she was still a little doubtful. Twisting her hands together, she looked up into his face - a sight she had been avoiding, to tell the truth - and saw nothing but sincerity sparkling in his eyes, until his expression turned to one of teasing.

Fred winked. "Ah, but, Miss Granger, that's part of the Weasley charm."

"Guess I'll have to get used to it," she smiled, one that wasn't at all forced.

"You will," replied Fred, "because you're stuck with all this." He gestured to himself, grinning smugly as if Hermione had just won the lottery.

A small voice at the back of Hermione's head was telling her that it wasn't all that bad – Quidditch muscles, who didn't like those?

She laughed; a twinkling, amused laugh. "I'm a bit cold, I'm going to go in." Hermione grabbed her heels and slid back into the empty parlor, sliding her heels back on. Her leaving the balcony was a bit abrupt, but Hermione was almost shaking with cold. She heard the glass door open and close behind her.

"Right behind you, Miss Granger, and enjoying the view."

She'd also have to get used to the cheeky comments, too.

* * *

_What did you think? At first, I was considering making this party thing a one-shot seperate from this story, but then I found a way to incorperate it in. What do you think is comig next for Fred and Hermione? Leave a review and let me know. :) As you know, this is written for the Marriage Law Competition by Forever Siriusly Sirus and the 100K Multichapter Competition by the Original Horcrux, back on HPFC. Next update will be sometime next week. :D_


	8. mixture of thoughts

_Minor changes made 14/06/13._

"Can you meet me at the shop at six? If you're not busy, that is?"

The abrupt question startled her, and she turned around to face the asker. Of course. Fred.

"Alright, then." Hermione noticed her voice was a bit dreary, a little tired, but she wasn't too bothered with it – work was stressful, and stress caused insomnia, which would turn into many sleepless nights tossing and turning in bed, thinking about the future, her job… everything, pretty much, during those nights when her brain didn't know when to shut off.

"Great!" He didn't seem fazed by her tired response, and turned away, heading towards his twin before she could say anything else.

After the initial period of shock had registered, it was more annoyance and anger. Hermione seemed to be a fuse lately – blowing up in anger when something ticked her off. Namely, her job.

Working at the Ministry was alright, she supposed. Not exactly her fancy, but at least she was passionate about it. But it was _just so stressful. _And tiring, and draining, and the list could go on… She never had time for herself anymore, and now, having to plan a _wedding _in two weeks, and still quite bothered about the fact – Hermione couldn't stress this enough – _that she was being forced to marry. _No, it wasn't willing, it was a stupid Ministry law.

And Fred. Where the hell did she start with him?

Her own damn feelings were confusing. Before the law, she would have never looked twice at him (alright – that wasn't exactly telling the truth, she may or may not have harboured a small crush on the duo in her third year) but now Hermione was finding him oddly… endearing. Like his presence had become a little more bearable.

_You'll be stuck with that presence for the rest of your life, _a small, nasty voice spoke to her mentally from somewhere deep inside her brain.

Would it really be… all that bad? She could have gotten stuck with a troll like Crabbe or Goyle (Merlin save the poor girls that had to marry them), or someone oddly platonic, like Neville – who was considered one of her brothers. Or (shudder) Harry or Ron.

But no, it had to be Fred, the one she had weird, mixed, completely absurd feelings (is that what they were called) about. Hermione Jean Granger was highly logical, and for one of the first times in her life, she couldn't find the logic anywhere. It had simply _scourgified. _Vanished.

* * *

"What's up with you and Granger?"

Lee's voice broke Fred out of his motion of stacking the shelves. He new this question was bound to come sooner or later, and it looked more like sooner.

"She's my fiancee," he stated blandly, giving Lee an _isn't-that-obvious _sort of look.

"Don't you sound chipper about it," Lee quipped, but shoved the joking manner aside. "Mate, she is one attractive bird, you told me yourself, but seriously? Do you like… fancy her or something?" Lee finished lamely, expecting an answer from his friend.

"I don't know," said Fred frigidly, and Lee noticed he was quite out of character; stiff and cold. Almost everyone who knew Fred well enough knew that he was only stiff and cold when something was on his mind, and something serious at that. It was probably not best to keep inquiring when Fred was in this mood, but Lee was a Gryffindor, wasn't he?

"You either do, or you don't."

"I don't know," Fred replied in a clipped tone with his back still to Lee, purposefully trying to ignore him.

"Sorry, mate," said Lee in a much more subdued voice, and backed off to go restock the Skiving Snackboxes on the other side of the shop, almost tripping over the hem of his magenta WWW robes in the process.

* * *

Having just gotten off of work, Hermione didn't really have time to fix herself up before rushing to Diagon Alley. Work was energy-draining, and she'd love nothing more than to curl up on her sofa with a good book and Crookshanks by her side, but she made a promise and Hermione was always punctual, ever since she was a child.

The gravel crunched beneath her dress shoes, and the rain caused Hermione's black Ministry robes to stick to the curves of her body, a very unpleasant sensation, while she hightailed it to the joke shop, very aware that the warm but still unwelcome rain was going to make her hair extremely frizzy – every little strand would stand up as if she had been electrocuted!

And immediately reprimanded herself for putting that much thought into her hair. She was _not _Lavender or Parvati, and therefore was not obessing over the way her hair looked and refused herself to do so. She didn't own a single Witch Weekly magazine and prided herself in it.

She could have Apparated, but that always gave her an upset stomach and she never Apparated more than necessary. Plus, the joke shop had Anti-disapparation wards set up, so it wasn't like she was able to Apparate directly in; she be Apparating to the designated Diagon Alley spot, at the other end of the cobblestone alley.

Hermione made her way into the store; there were little kids running around unsupervised, knocking over stands, and the air was filled with chatter, customers of all ages laughing about. Fred was a few aisles away, serving a customer.

"Fred?" she had asked tentatively, doubting he had _actually _heard her.

"Hey, Hermione-" Hermione smiled, "-you're here!"

A tall, ginger figure outfitted in magenta robes that clashed horribly with his hair grinned from beside her – _when did he get here, right in front of her? _– and held out his hand, oblivious to the young customers that George was having a handful containing near the Skiving Snackboxes section.

Hermione took his hand, rather gingerly.

"The flats' up here," he murmured, and led her up a set of stairs around a bend before stopping at a door.

"Not that the gesture isn't welcome, but why exactly are we going to your flat?"

Fred waggled his eyebrows at her. "Surely you have an idea, Miss Granger," he nipped in a low tone, and Hermione rolled her eyes while trying not to blush at his suggestive comment.

"Nice try. Seriously, though?"

"I wanted to show you around," he admitted, "and plus, I thought it would be nice, us having dinner together…"

"That wouldn't be all that bad," she murmured, surprised at how... confident her voice sounded.

Fred grinned. "Well, here we are..." He opened the door, and ushered her in.

It was messy, but not as much as she suspected. A cauldron was on the dining room table, and a few sheets of parchment were spread across the sofa, but other than a large black ink stain on the wall just above the kitchen sink, it was quite tidy. Smaller than she would have anticipated - the kitchen, dining room, and living room all shared one space, and down a short hallway was a bedroom, storage room, and bathroom.

"Home sweet home, Herms."

Deciding it would be an inappropriate time for _completely_ telling him off about that _horrible _nickname, Hermione nodded. "It's sweet, Fred. But please, don't call me that."

"Sweet?" He raised his eyebrows incredibly. "Sure. I thought you'd say something about how incredibly messy it is,"

Hermione shrugged. "You're no better than Ron."

Fred tensed a little at the mention of his little brothers' name, and Hermione bit her lip, wanting to change the topic.

"How's the shop going, then?"

"Great," started Fred, "Lee's been a real pain in the arse, though," Hermione frowned at his use of language, but let him continue. "Hitting on _every single bird _that comes by the shop, the bloke,"

"Isn't he paired with someone?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, Jess-something-or-the-other, I reckon it's just nerves, though, we all didn't think we were gonna settle down early... 'cept for George, git's crazy about Angie."

Hermione smiled slightly, but didn't say anything.

"Thought I must say, if I were to choose a bird to settle down with, you wouldn't be a bad candidate," Fred winked exaggeratedly and Hermione rolled her eyes. He scooted closer to her.

It was times like this when she couldn't tell if Fred was being serious or not - it would take the pressure off her shoulders if she knew if he _actually _liked her or not, cheesy pick-up lines not included. He was very good at dancing outside of the lines - metaphorically, of course. Not literally. That would be kind of weird.

* * *

"Thanks for coming over, Hermione," thanked Fred as she stepped outside the painfully bright door, rubbing her fists in her eyes as a way to try and attempt to ward off sleep. It wasn't working; Hermione was exhausted, what with working all day and having dinner with Fred... she just wanted to curl up between the crisp, cool sheets and fall into a deep slumber.

"My pleasure," she murmured, and yawned undeniably big. She was just about to turn away to go back to her own flat when she felt two arms wrap around her waist, and as suddenly as it happened, she found herself looking into Fred's eyes, the blue flecked with green, as they came closer - _was he doing what she thought he was going to do? _- and Hermione's brain shut down completely.

Fred Weasley planted a soft, gentle kiss on her lips that had left her nerves feeling like live wires, and before she got to say anything or kiss back, he had slipped back into the flat, closing the door quietly, leaving a _very _confused Hermione in the doorway.

* * *

_A cliffie... well, I have officially reached 50 followers! *beams proudly* but, if you would mind reviewing, even a "Good job..." Let me know your thoughts, if you wouldn't mind. I hope I'm doing well so far and it would be great if I could know. Adventure and drama coming soon, don't worry!_

_Emily. x_


	9. simplicity

_A red light streamed past them, and suddenly she was flying backwards, and shielding her face with her arms, and landed so heavily on her back that the wind was completely knocked out of her. She heard the screams and yells of the people beside her, people she couldn't see, and she was screaming too..._

_A piece of rubble had pierced her ankle, and she struggled to push herself up from the rubble, looking around anxiously - Harry was there, Ron was there, Percy was there, Fred was-__  
_

_ "No!" a voice was shouting. "No - no - no!" A terrible cry sounded through the air, so full of heartbreak and sorrow that she would have taken any curse not to hear it. Hermione ignored the blood that was dripping down her midsection; it was so painful that she couldn't even feel it, but she would deal with that later, that wasn't important._

_ And when her vision cleared, and she was struggling to get up, she saw a shock of red hair, leaning over another... no, that couldn't be... her heart twisted and fell right into her stomach... she'd never, ever felt this type of terror before. Looking beside her, she saw Harry, leaning slightly on his feet, scarlet blood dripping down the side of his face. Her breath had caught in her throat, and she held her wand at the ready before turning to her other side and seeing red hair and red blood..._

_Harry's hand gripped her own and they stumbled through the wreckage, and what she saw next would probably be branded in her mind forever... the sight of Fred, lying lifeless with a sobbing Percy kneeling over him, shaking him, his eye rolling back into his head and his last smile still sketched upon his face..._

Hermione gasped and woke up, supporting herself on her elbows and panting heavily. Wiping the sweat off her brow and stabilizing her shaking legs, she swung them out of bed and padded to the kitchen. She found a glass and poured herself a cup of ice-cold water, and looked to the back of the cupboard in her kitchen to find a little bottle full of swirling purple liquid with the label '_Dreamless Sleep Potion_.' She knew that he hadn't actually died, that there was still a faint pulse, but seeing him in such a comatose state shocked her.

Hermione hadn't been having the nightmares before, but ever since the law announced, they'd been worming into her dreams more often than not, and getting home late after work caused her to forget the potion.

Hermione tipped the bottle back and swallowed the contents, finding her way back into her bedroom and sliding underneath the covers, clutching her pillow and falling into a fitful sleep.

* * *

She woke up the next morning very irritable - probably because of the lack of sleep she had gotten the night before. Even a rejuvenating spell wasn't doing her any good. Just as she was making her morning cup of tea and changing into her Ministry robes, an owl flew in through the open window and dropped a piece of parchment on her kitchen counter before swooping out again.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_ Since you are subject to the new law, the newly formed Department of Marital Management has decreed that all who have been affected by the law and are employed at the Ministry have a period to get __acquainted with their partners. We will see you in again on Monday._

_ K. Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic_

Great. A whole _week _to do nothing. Just wonderful. Fred would probably be working in his shop, and Harry wasn't affected, so he'd be working, and Ron worked at the joke shop with Fred, and Ginny was in training with the Harpies.

_Wonderful. _She'd have to find ways to solve her boredom for a whole entire week.

Just as Hermione was crumpling the little note and throwing in the trash can unceremoniously, a loud crash sounded from her open window. A grey, ruffled owl lay unmoving on her floor, a note clutched in its' beak. Errol, how could she have forgotten?

_Mum wants you to come over today. You're off work, right? So am I, just for today. _

_-Ginny _

Hermione scrawled back a quick _yes _on the back of the parchment before petting Errol gently and laughing as he sprung up, blinking his wide yellow eyes carefully. She gave the note to him and set him on the perch of her window, where he regained his energy for a few moments before spreading his wings and flying into the sky.

* * *

"Wonderful, Hermione, you're here. Have you and Fred set a date yet, dear?" Blinking at Molly's straight-to-the-point inquiry, she answered unsure.

"I don't know... we haven't really talked about it yet." It had been a month since the law was announced, and what did it say again...

"Oh!" exclaimed Molly, "you only have two months! There's a lot to do before then - Ginny and Harry are taking the first one, and Ron and Demelza are going the week after them... how is September the eleventh, dear? That's a Saturday, so you'll be off work."

Hermione replied with an, "Okay," while trying to wrap her head around Molly's excessive excited babbling about upcoming weddings in the kitchen of the Burrow.

"- lavender and baby blue, I was thinking, but maybe orange and white would go nice together; roses, possibly, hmm... Hermione, do you have a dress yet?"

Oh. That thought hadn't really crossed her mind yet. She had become so preoccupied thinking about married _life _that she had forgotten about the actual ceremony. Wouldn't it be easier to just elope or something?

"No, I haven't, Mrs Weasley."

"It's Molly, dear," she corrected automatically, and turned to holler up the stairs, "GINNY! HURRY UP - WE'RE GOING TO DIAGON ALLEY! DRESS SHOPPING!"

From somewhere several stories above, Hermione heard a faint crash, an excited squeal, and footsteps becoming louder as Ginny finally ascended into the kitchen.

"Perfect," breathed Ginny, batting away a stray red lock of hair that fell into her face, "is it just us and Hermione?"

"Yes," said Molly. "I had wondered if Fleur was going to accompany us, she had expressed interest before, but they're busy, apparently..." murmured Mrs Weasley, turning a faint pink and shutting her eyes, looking as if she was trying to concentrate. Hermione was slightly confused, but Ginny sniggered and began to explain.

"Oh, Mum made the mistake of Flooing over to Shell Cottage while Bill and Fleur were in the middle... of something, right in the middle of the living room," laughed Ginny, and Hermione felt embarrassed just imagining the sheer _awkwardness _of it all. But there _was _owling before you visited, too.

"Right, let's go," said Mrs Weasley strictly to a still-laughing Ginny and ushered the girls towards the fireplace.

* * *

_ This is more of a filler than anything, truthfully. It's been over three weeks since I've updated and I feel bad... so here you are. I have so many multichapters on the go... but more to come soon! Please, review, even if it's only a few words. Gives me inspiration. Thank you to everyone whos' favorited, followed or reviewed - I appreciate it. Emily x_

_A review inspires me, so I'd love it if you can tell me what you thought. Adventure and drama to come!_


	10. not your wedding

_Dear Hermione,_

_Since your father and I know nothing at all about Wizarding means of travel, we'd like to give you a gift._

_Airplane ticket vouchers to Melbourne, so you can visit us whenever your off. It feels like forever since we've seen you, Hermione, and we miss you very much. You'll have to tell us all about your job and London. As much as I miss it there, Australia is great._

_I sent you two round trip plane vouchers - if you'd like to bring that friend I've been hearing about he would be more than welcome._

_Lots of love,_  
_Mum_

Her parents! What was she supposed to tell her parents? When it came to the Wizarding world, they were wary as it was... would she even tell them at all? She had _two whole weeks _to organize a wedding without a single thought of her parents! Guilt flooded her. What kind of daughter was she, forgetting to tell her parents about her _own wedding? _

After the war and after Hermione had retrieved their memories, they had agreed to stay in Australia, seeing as they were established there and doing much better than they had in England. But they had only agreed under the premise that Hermione would keep in touch, and write often. It was hard - they were Muggles, she was a witch.

This whole 'marriage-law' thing was driving her insane.

_Dear Mum and Dad, _

_ I'm sorry for not writing sooner - I've been busy, you see, work and all. The Ministry is very busy around this time of year._

_ Thank you for the plane tickets - I'll be sure to use the vouchers before they expire. It would be lovely to visit Melbourne again. Truthfully, you aren't missing much in London. _

_Again, I'm very sorry for not writing sooner. I kind of forget Muggle means of mail sometimes, and other times I just have a hard time getting stamps._

_I love you both,_

_Hermione _

Coward, she called herself. She hadn't told them about the law, or the wedding, or even mentioned that 'friend'. Hermione knew she meant Ron, not Fred. It was common knowledge that they fought like an old married couple during Hogwarts, so naturally everyone assumed they would _actually _get married. That wasn't the case at all.

She was marrying his brother instead.

* * *

It was long and especially windy night, the night before the first wedding was to take place. Fred had asked her, the night before, if she would have been as kind as to accompany him to the wedding of Ron and Demelza the next day. Who was she to say no to her fiance?

Hermione found herself not being able to sleep. Sometimes it would happen, nights before significant events or nights before nothing at all. He brain would just refuse to shut off, and the thoughts would just keep flowing into her mind, the crazy _what-ifs _and the _what-happens-when _and _if-I-do this._ She would become restless and irritated, eventually swinging her legs over the side of the bed and dragging herself to the kitchen, grabbing an unnecessary snack. She didn't understand at all why she couldn't fall asleep - Hermione had no caffeine whatsoever that day and had quite a peaceful day, perusing around Flourish and Blotts before venturing into Muggle London for a new book release she wanted to pick up.

* * *

"Hey, Gin?" Hermione stuck her head through the floo and into the Burrow, where Ginny was to be staying.

"One second, Hermione!" The redhead called out from a floor above, where she was gathering a bag - the girls had planned to get ready together at Hermione's flat and meet their respective partners at the Burrow, where the wedding was to be held.

Ginny barreled down the stairs quickly and Hermione hardly had time to get her head out of the fireplace before she stepped through with a handful of Floo powder and a shout of "Hermione's flat!"

"Could've gave me a warning, Ginny," grumbled Hermione, and made her way to the bathroom with Ginny close behind. Hermione took a spare toothbrush from the counter of her bathroom, and with the tap of her wand, transfigured it into a chair in front of the bathroom mirror. Ginny gestured elaborately for Hermione to take a seat, and pulled out a hair clip and a few bottles of what Hermione vaguely recognized as hair potions out of a Holyhead Harpies bag and placed them out of the corner.

"When I'm done with you, Hermione," started Ginny proudly, "Fred will be panting after you." Hermione just rolled her eyes and let the enthusiastic girl dab potions and wave her wand at her hair.

Twenty minutes later, after Hermione pleaded for Ginny to "please, _please, _hurry up," she admired herself in the mirror. Her frizzy hair was much more tamed than normal, and in a loose chignon at the back of her head, embellished with an antique pin that was sure to go with the dress she had gotten for the occasion.

After she had slipped on her dress and a black cardigan over top of it, Hermione made her way to the living room, peering anxiously at the time. They had a mere half an hour before they had to meet everyone at the Burrow.

"Oh, Hermione," Ginny fussed, in a way similar to her mother (although she'd never admit that out loud), and unbuttoned the cardigan covering the top of the dress. "You look like aunt Muriel's sister, wearing that thing over your dress." Ginny banished it back to Hermione closet and adjusted her dress. It was a red dress that fell just above her knees, with a V neck-line and two straps that tied behind her neck, exposing a fair amount of her back. Ginny passed her a pair of silver heels and Hermione slipped them on, gaining three inches.

"There," said Ginny proudly, inspecting her friend with her hand on her hips. The red-head herself was wearing a muted gold dress with a conservative neckline but a large amount of back and legs showing.

"C'mon, lets go now," prompted Hermione, stepping into the grate of her fireplace and grabbing a handful of Floo powder, tossing it into the fireplace and shouting "The Burrow!" with Ginny close behind.

* * *

Ron paced back and forth in his bedroom at the Burrow, running his fingers through his shaggy ginger locks while Harry tried to console him. He knew he had a definite case of cold feet. For years, he had an inkling that it might be Hermione holding onto her fathers' arm, in a white dress, while his mother sobbed loudly. It wasn't going to be her, and there was nothing he could do about that. Ron knew that they weren't really all that compatible; they wouldn't have worked out. And even if he _did _feel anything for her (he was not admitting or denying the fact) it wasn't as if she felt the same way.

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor," sighed Harry, adjusting his tie in the mirror and trying vainly to flatten his hair, sticking up in all directions.

"I know," said Ron wearily.

"You'll be fine," Harry assured for the millionth time that day. "Demelza's a nice girl. You'll be happy with her."

"I guess," Ron shrugged.

* * *

"Ginny, you look just wonderful, Harry is certainly a lucky guy," Molly hugged her daughter warmly before turning to Hermione, inspecting her. "And you, dearie! Oh, Ginny, you were absolutely right."

"Right about what?" Fred chose that moment to walk into the room, scratching at the cuff of his decidedly uncomfortable dress robes.

"How beautiful Hermione would look, wouldn't you agree?" Molly gave her son a not-so-subtle look. Hermione felt her cheeks turning pink, and stared at her silver-clad feet.

"Certainly," he winked roguishly at her and stuck out his arm in an overly-pompous manner. "Care to join me, Miss Granger? Bill, Charlie, George, Percy and the wives are already seated, I'd say we'd get going, or George might just get started without me."

"You _will not _pull anything at your brothers wedding," Molly glared at Fred and he just shrugged.

"Maybe, maybe not. It's quite fun, you see, to take the mickey out of Ickle Ronniekins."

"Listen to your mother, she's right - what are you planning?" piped in Hermione seriously.

"Ask me no questions, and I shall tell you no lies."

Knowing that was probably the best she was going to get out of him, the two left the sitting room of the Burrow side-by-side and made their way to the white tent set up in the garden, filled to the brim with red-headed cousins and Demelza's family.

Fred leaned down to whisper in her ear just as they were taking their seats. "I wasn't lying, you look spectacular."

* * *

_Here's me, apologizing profusely for my lateness. Wedding continuing next chapter, and a little more Ron drama._


	11. interrupted sleep

_Minor changes made 14.06.13_

**Late August, 1999 **

The wedding went off without a hitch. It wasn't breathy and romantic, but just basic and simple. Demelza's dress flowed elegantly behind her, and she had a smile pasted on her face. Ron looked nervous, chewing on his lip and repeatedly chewing on his lip. Harry clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave an affirmative nod just before the bride descended down the aisle.

No original vows were spoken; just the Ministry-required ones, and Ron still looked quite nervous as he slid a gold band onto her finger. Demelza smiled shyly at him, and the kiss they shared was a brief peck on the lips, not at all passionate and quite awkward, really.

The crowd clapped politely at the exchange, and the bride and groom walked arm-in-arm back down the aisle with rather forced looking smiles.

Since there was a high amount of weddings around that time, Ron and Demelza had amicably decided not to host a reception, instead moving into their cottage a few miles away from Ottery St. Catchpole and having their honeymoon there.

"Less than two weeks and it'll be your wedding," reminded Ginny, slipping off her heels and placing them on her quilt in her bedroom.

"You never fail to remind me, Ginny. As if I'd forget."

"Aren't you excited, though?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked at the girl she considered her sister in all but blood. "I guess, I don't know, it feels a little bit more like a trap," she admitted. "Once I'm married, I'm married. There's no getting out... I'd like to be in _love _and married, but see that's not going to happen."

The redhead frowned, fiddling with the earrings in her ears. "You and Fred are great together. You'll see, Hermione, everything'll work out and you two will fall in love."

Ginny, ever the optimist.

"You don't get it," she breathed. "You're marrying Harry! You love him and I can just _see _the adoration in both of your eyes. Fred and I? I barely know him, and the things I do know about him make us complete opposites! I don't even like him, not in the way that husbands and wives are supposed to!" Okay, so what she had just ranted about wasn't true - Fred was physically attractive, she would admit that, but that didn't mean anything, right? You couldn't base a _marriage _on looks. But he _is _pretty handsome, smart, charming...

"Alright, Hermione," said Ginny, shaking out the bun on the top of her head and leaning against the headboard of her bed in her room. "But do you remember that Muggle saying, the one that you told me about? Opposites attract."

* * *

The week preparing for the wedding was hectic, to say the least. Mrs Weasley was constantly bringing up irrelevant little facts such at the tablecloth color, or what type of candle she would rather. And the worst part was there was a horrible guilt edging inside of her, seeing as she hadn't even told her parents about a wedding.

It was _September 2nd. _

She was getting married _September 11th. _She didn't even know if she would tell them at all, and just thinking about it had cost her many sleepless nights, tossing and turning in her bed. She needed to tell them, she just didn't know how. Hermione didn't think they would appreciate the Marriage Law.

Her and Fred had barely talked in the days after Ron and Demelza's wedding. She saw him at the bi-weekly Weasley dinners, and that was about it. They hadn't talked about that sudden, unexpected kiss, either, even though it had been on her mind since it happened.

"Where are you going for a honeymoon, Hermione?"

_A honeymoon?_ Was... what?

"Uh... I don't know. I don't know if we'll have one. Honestly, there's still a lot to do," she answered truthfully to Mrs Weasley.

The matriarch nodded in agreement. "That's for sure. Are you going to be moving in at the flat with him, dear? I told him earlier he should _really _think about getting you two a cottage together. That would be lovely, would it not?"

"Lovely," said Hermione quietly, in a strained sort of voice.

* * *

There was barely any sunlight streaming from underneath the curtains when Hermione woke up to an incessant, repetitive noise that sounded like an owl pecking at her window. Who owled at - she glanced at the Muggle clock - 5:15 in the morning? Even for Hermione, who got up every single day without break at 6:30, this was a tad ridiculous. Grumbling, she wiped the sleep out of her eyes and threw the window open, wincing a bit as a gush of cold air hit her. An owl was perched at her window, holding an orange piece of parchment bearing the symbol of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Mentally adding them to her 'to rant at' list, she plucked the letter from the owls beak and skimmed her eyes over it, yawning.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I don't know what time this'll get to you at, but we had to take an emergency Portkey to Australia - we got called into a hearing because some Australian bloke ate too many Puking Pastilles at once, and now his stomach is all wonky and apparently it's our fault, too..._

_It's 11 at night right now, so I hope this doesn't get to you too early in the morning - it'll take the bird a while to get there, anyways._

Too late for that, Hermione grumbled internally.

_Mum told me to owl you yesterday about living arrangements. I had to leave barely ten minutes after that, so here it goes:_

_How about I meet you at the shop tomorrow at noon? You have lunch break, right? (I'm sure you could spare not working through one to come see your lovely, dear fiance.)_

_Let me know, but maybe let the owl rest a bit first._

_The Handsomer twin,_

_Fred. _

Did she have to wake up an hour just for that? The owl swooped through her bedroom and into her living room, finding the owl cage of her own owl and took several tentative sips of water before settling in the cage for a nap.

She'd write a reply - later. She still had an hour and fifteen minutes left of sleep she could savage, and Hermione barely made it to the bed before her eyes shut closed and she passed out into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning about until her alarm went off a few hours later.

* * *

_ This update was quicker than last time. I got no reviews last time, so please, to the 89 of you who are already following, would you mind dropping a review? Just to let me know how I'm doing. (: Even a few words would do._

_You guys are great! Emily. xx_


	12. date in manchester

_Yes, Fred. I'll be able to make it. Future note: if you're going to send something late at night from across the world, Floo me instead. I was woken up by that owl at five in the morning._

_Hermione._

Hermione had spent the day before the meeting worrying and getting ready for it. What did he want to meet with her for? Hadn't they already discussed everything necessary? And truthfully, she didn't really want to see it. It was a silly fear, yes, but she didn't know what to say or do around him. Plus, he had kissed her; she wasn't expecting that in the least when she came over for dinner at his place. He made her uncertain and awkward, and she couldn't even tell why.

She did not fancy him... it wouldn't be bad to fancy your spouse, though, wouldn't it? They would eventually have to start seeing each other in that way, given they were supposed to...consummate. Eugh. Not that it was gross - not at all, completely the opposite - Hermione just didn't have much experience with that sort of thing. Except for that awkward, fumbling Firewhisky-enduced thing with Dean... but even that was quite fuzzy in her mind.

And why, pray to Merlin, did he have to owl her at five in the morning? Hermione knew time-zones were confusing, and wizards didn't really understand that (considering it was a Muggle thing), but couldn't he have at least flooed her instead before she went to bed? Honestly. Plus, Fred had just assumed she was free... she was free, but that wasn't the point. Stupid Ministry, letting them off for a 'grace period' of two weeks to 'acquaint' themselves with their spouse. A lot of 'acquainting' she was doing. Hermione was getting married in eight days, barely over a week; they'd have time to get to know each other after they were, you know, bonded for life according to the Ministry's wishes.

Hermione let out a deep sight. Everything was confusing; her emotions, how she felt about the wedding, Fred... You'd think scarcely two years after the war ended that they would be given peace for a little while. To live a little bit normally, for once.

Although nothing could be classified as 'normal' in the Wizarding World.

Hermione shrugged on a soft white blouse and a pair of jeans; lately, she had been favouring Muggle clothing. It was cheaper, and definitely more versatile. Plus, it was what she had grown up wearing. Taking a quick peak in the mirror, Hermione vainly struggled a brush through her out-of-control curls. Instead of flattening, they frizzed out some more and she tied them back into a loose plait, with a few strands surrounding her heart-shaped face.

A cup of tea and two chapters into her book later, Hermione glanced at the clock. It was five to eleven - even though travel was instantaneous in the Wizarding World, she always left early. It was a habit. Grabbing her wand, she spun, her flat fading from view and the door of the twins' flat appearing instead.

Knocking on the bright red door, she rocked back and forth on her heels. What was she supposed to talk about, and couldn't he have just, you know, wrote her down the information? Was a meeting necessary? She internally reprimanded herself. At least he had the decency to not awkwardly try to avoid her, like she had been doing to him. Just because she couldn't get her feelings in check.

The door creaked and opened, revealing a smiling, freckly face with both ears.

"Hermione," said Fred, gesturing her in. She stepped in a little nervously, tugging on the sleeves of her blouse. Really, she thought to herself. You're acting ridiculous. It's just Fred, not anyone else.

"Fred," she responded. "What was the point of waking me up at five in morning to deliver me a letter telling me you wanted to meet me? Couldn't you have said everything you need to have said in that letter?" Hermione cringed momentarily at the harsh tone in her voice, and she saw the twinkle in his eyes dim a little bit at her rudeness, and looked a little put out.

"Sorry," Hermione said, hanging her head down. "I didn't really mean to snap at you - it's okay. I didn't have anything planned today, anyway."

"It's all good," said Fred, "don't worry about it. I would have Flooed, but the Australian International department are gits. Wouldn't let me Floo to you - it violates 'international rules'." He grinned widely. "Didn't stop me from trying, didn't it?"

"What's Fred Weasley without a little rule breaking, though?" laughed Hermione, and Fred cracked a smile.

"All part of my charm, Miss Granger. Now, will you be so courteous as to accompany me on a date - don't interrupt, Granger, not telling you where - on this wonderful autumn morning?" He held out his arm in an overexadurrated manner, with his eyebrows raised.

A date?

"Don't look so surprised, Hermione - I am your fiancé, after all."

Hermione blinked once and took his arm. They disappeared from the apartment almost as soon as she had grabbed hold of his arm.

They reappeared in a busy city, in an an alleyway just off of the main road. The loud honks of cars and screeching of tires could be heard, and they were obviously in a big city, too - skyscrapers surrounded them, reaching up to the white, fluffy clouds.

"Where are we?"

"Take a guess, Granger."

She scrutinized the street that they could see through the end of the alleyway - Muggle, obviously, considering everyone was dressed just the way she was. One of the shops had a sign over it saying Manchesters' Best -

"We're in Manchester?"

"Ten points to Gryffindor," said Fred, amused. "C'mon - it's this Muggle place that Lee showed me a while back. It's very popular, apparently, and not too far from here." He started walking very quickly, turning out of the alleyway and onto the busy pavement. Hermione had to jog to reach up to him.

"Could you slow down, maybe?" she suggested shortly, still jogging next to him as he strolled very quickly. While looking up at him, she almost ran into a Muggle man carrying a briefcase - "Sorry," - she murmured, avoiding him. The man turned around, shooting a glare at her before disappearing down the busy street.

"We've got reservations for ten after eleven, and it's - " he checked his battered watch watch, "well, exactly ten after now."

* * *

_I'm trying to make excuses for my lateness - but that's not working out so far. Next chapter will be up soon - I already have some of it written! Emily xx. Review, please? _


	13. eerily still

The restaurant was crowded with people, and the food there was top-of-the-line; homemade and completely delectable. It was a wonderful place for a date – the restaurant had a very upbeat aura to it. Fred and Hermione were too into their dishes to chat; in fact, they hadn't even said a word to each other so far barring ordering.

"So, Granger, how's life doing?"

"Nothing much has changed, really, since – "

Hermione stopped mid-sentence at the look on Fred's face. In the course of a few seconds, he had gone from looking cheerful and happy to all of the color draining from his face, turning a sickly green color.

"What? Fred, are you alright?"

"Something's wrong, I can feel it," he said slowly. He lifted up his wrist to show a modified watch, the smooth gold of the band around his wrist showing writing, scrawled in a messy handwriting. "A watch that me and George invented… together… we both have one… goes cold when the message is written… messages in serious emergencies… not a joke… we need to go…" _Come to the shop. Now. _

Fred reached across the table, grabbing Hermione's wrist and pulling her through the throng of people, abandoning the dishes on their table and not stopping to apologize.

"Fred," Hermione breathed, as he pushed out the crowded front door and out onto the busy street, running down it at a very fast pace, elbowing past people and shoving others out of the way. Hermione was practically being dragged by her wrist down the street, and the duo got more than a few strange looks.

He dashed back into the alley they had appeared to. Fred leaned against the wall, his eyes tracing over the words on the side of the watch over and over again.

"Don't drag me, how about that," she panted, out of breath. It was hard running on an oddly sunny day in early autumn, especially in constricting clothing.

"We have to go, there's something wrong, I know it." Winding his fingers through hers, a sickening feeling fell to the bottom of Hermione's stomach as he Apparated them away.

Moments later, they reappeared at the opposite end of Diagon Alley, in the middle of the cobblestone pavement – the anti-theft wards set in place by all of the shops made the Apparation point right there.

They both took off in a run to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It was just then Hermione noticed Diagon Alley was completed empty, devoid of people. Half an hour ago, she swore it wasn't. Most of the shops they passed by had switched their signs from 'opened' to 'closed'. It was one of the most strangest sights she would ever encounter – the busiest place in the Wizarding World, completely empty.

A voice, overcome with sadness and fear, was yelling, over and over again. It sounded more and more familiar as the two ran closer.

George.

"Fred! Hermione! Fred! Come here! I don't know… I heard you Apparate… c'mon!"

"We're coming!" Fred yelled back, tightening his grip on Hermione's hand. It felt as if he was cutting off all of her circulation in her hand.

They halted to a stop, right in front of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The shop, just like the rest of the Alley, was completely empty, and the interior of the store was completely black, except for one little spark of light, far in the back. Heartbreaking sobbing could be heard in the background, the wretched cries of someone overcome by grief.

"What is it, Georgie? What happened?" The two brothers faced each other, George standing on the steps of the front door.

"George?" said Hermione quietly, growing increasingly worried. What was going on here? Could it possibly be… _no. _The Aurors had said they had caught all of them, they were all safely away in Azkaban! It couldn't have been…

"It's Ginny," he choked out, looking as pale and sickly as his brother. The twins stood facing each other, both wearing masks of fear and worry. Hermione was looking at her side. Her heart was beating out of her chest, and it felt like any moment it could just possibly explode. That sinking feeling in her stomach that was much too common during the war was back; she felt as if she was drowning in fear. _Ginny. _

"She… we don't know what happened, Fred," It was one of the only times Hermione had seen both twins looking so serious and solemn. Both foreheads were etched with lines of worry. "She came in here about twenty minutes ago, shouting and yelling. Right after that, explosions – from up above, in the sky – came, hooded figures. Everyone disappeared… and right after it all became silent, she… we don't know. She's alive… but we can't ennervate her, Angie went to St. Mungo's, getting someone to come," Fred stood unmoving, unblinking. After everything they had lost scarcely a year before… not his sister. His baby sister.

Hermione wrenched her hand out of Fred's iron grip, darting behind George and bursting into the shop. _Ginny, _oh Ginny… what happened? What had happened? That spark of light… dodging the aisles , she followed the dim spark of light that came from the back, crashing into various products but not bothering to pick it up.

"Lumos!" called a weak voice, and the shop erupted in light. Molly Weasley stood a few yards away from her, in the Muggle Tricks section of the shop. She looked defeated, her shoulders hunched over. Tears streamed freely down her face, and she was shaking.

"Hermione, it's just you," Molly said weakly, taking in a shallow breath. The mother cast her sight downward, sobbing once again and throwing herself to the ground. Two identical red heads appeared beside Hermione, running into the store right behind her.

What Hermione would see next would be a sight she'd never forget, through the rest of her years.

With her fiery, flaming red hair splayed out around her, Ginny Weasley lay pale, still and unmoving on the ground of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, with the sobs of grieving mother echoing around the eerily still store.

* * *

_ Cliffhanger. Here's the action I promised. What do you think will happen next? Leave me your thoughts. Em xo. (Fast update, eh?)_


	14. a promise to yourself

_Tick. Tock. _The cloaked figure glared at the clock; certainly he should be back by now? _Tick. Tock. _The mission was so perfectly planned out – nothing would go wrong, he was sure.

The sharp crack echoed around the stone room, signaling the return of the accomplice. It was about time.

The black, cloaked figure paced back and forth. "Has it been done?"

The smaller of the two grinned, subconsciously rubbing his hand over his left forearm. "Yes, it has."

"You got the blood traitor girl?" The taller one sneered.

"Yes, sir, but shouldn't we directly – "

The taller one gave the smaller one a cold, patronizing look. "No. The best way to Potter is through his family and friends. That's one of his biggest weaknesses. Courage and loyalty. He'd do anything for them, anything to save them."

* * *

She couldn't see, hear or feel anything. The fire in her bones was building up, like a crackling flame burning up her spine. Her blood felt liquidized, melting through her bones and igniting her whole body in heat.

She struggled for breath, shallow gasps of air that didn't fill her lungs to what they needed. She was trapped in her own body, trapped in her own mind. There was _nothing, _just _nothing_… except for one word. One word, repeated over and over again inside her head.

All Ginny could hear was _tomorrow. _

_Tomorrow _in a rough, scratchy voice that wasn't familiar, in a cold tone that made her unable to breathe.

_Tomorrow._

* * *

"This is nothing we've ever seen before," explained the Healer, knitting his eyebrows together. "She's fine – perfectly healthy, although her lungs are a little weak. Perfect condition, except for one fact – she won't wake up."

Hermione stared back down at her best friend, her surrogate sister. "Have you tried everything? _Ennervate, _mind-clearing potion – "

"Yes, Miss Granger, we have. We have been _ennervating _her exactly on the hour, every hour, with little or no result."

"What do you mean, _little _or no result?"

"Sometimes she stirs, ever so slightly," the Healer explained, looking worriedly down onto Ginny. The young woman still had her hair fanned out onto the pillow, lying still with her arms by her sides and her eyelids closed peacefully. It was almost as if she could be sleeping.

But she wasn't.

"Go home, Hermione, and take Fred with you," said the soft voice of Mr. Weasley. "You and Fred haven't left here yet. Molly and I will be here. Be careful - it isn't wise to stay on your own."

"But-"

"Get some rest, and then you can come back. You look like you haven't slept for days," he said. Mr Weasley wasn't lying – Hermione had dark circles underneath her eyes, and her hair was very frizzy from repeatedly running her fingers through it. She cast one sidelong glance at Ginny, her heart twisting and sinking, just like the Titanic hitting an iceburg and sinking into the cold Atlantic sea. Oh, Ginny.

She stepped out of the white hospital room and into the lobby, where her fiance was dozing in a stiff, straight-backed chair, with his neck craned in an uncomfortable position.

"Fred," she said, jostling him out of his slumber.

"What's happened- Hermione?"

"Mr Weasley told the both of us to go home, and get some rest." He blinked at her tiredly, before standing up and cracking the bones in his back as he did so. Hermione winced as he did so.

"Where's George?"

"Him and Angelina left back to their cottage a few moments ago."

"Okay," he said, looking uncertain and oddly solemn for a moment, "would you mind – you know – coming back to the flat with me? After everything that's happened… well, I don't want anything to happen to you."

This was oddly out of character – he _was _Fred Weasley, wasn't he? Loud and brash, with a sense of humor that could get anyone cracking up. The last time she had seen him so concerned… was the Battle of Hogwarts, and she definitely didn't want to relive that in her mind. But this was his baby sister that was hurt this time, not himself. Of course he would be worried - at the thought of it, she was a little bit scared of going off on her own.

"Alright," Hermione replied, rather quietly, and he gripped her arm, Apparating the two of them back to his flat.

* * *

The newest edition of the Daily Prophet was lying on his windowsill, unread. Hermione glanced at the headline of the main spread - _Possible Death Eater Activity._ They had just gotten back moments ago, and Fred had left to go take a shower, leaving Hermione free to do whatever she'd like for the time being in his flat.

Hermione took a seat on the sofa, and read the top article, her eyes scanning the page quickly._  
_

_September 7th, 1999_

_Possible Death Eater Activity: Diagon Alley Attacked_

_Last night at approximately 11:15 AM, residents and shopkeepers of Diagon Alley reported to seeing bright flashes in the sky, caused by dark, cloaked figures on broomsticks. Not ten minutes later, Ginevra Weasley, Holyhead Harpies chaser and fiance to none other than The Boy Who Lived himself, was found unconscious in the back of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes after unexpectedly running in, shouting._

_What is the reformed Ministry doing about this? What's going to happen next?_

_"I think they went after that poor girl because she's Potters' fiancee," a source admits. "Oh, he's dangerous. Dangerous to be near. The war might be over but that won't stop fighting, mark my words." _

_We have asked Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt to comment, but he has declined, only saying publicly that "people she be on watch."_

_What does the public think? Do _you _think that Miss Weasley was targeted due to her fiance? And what do you have to say about Harry Potter, Order of Merlin, First Class and member of the Wizengamot have to do with all of this? _

_"We are working very hard on this case," Ron Weasley, Order of Merlin, First Class and Auror representative tells us, "but we cannot release any details due to public safety. But follow this one rule: watch out."_

_The question is, however: are the Aurors actually doing whatever they can? And is Harry Potter a threat to the safety of the people close to him, because of his fame?_

"What a prejudiced, biased piece of utter _garbage,_" muttered Hermione, slamming the offensive piece of paper on the coffee table. What nerve they had, questioning the work of the Aurors! _Reformed _Prophet, ha. It was spewing the same lies as it did during the war.

The background noise of water spraying calmed, and shut off. A few minutes later, she heard footsteps coming up from behind her - a perfectly dry, completely dressed Fred. Hermione was still glaring at the Prophet as though her eyes could incinerate it when he touched her shoulder lightly.

"Er - Hermione? Don't you think you should get some sleep?"

"Look at this," she said, passing him the Prophet and watching him as his eyes skipped across the page. Fred tossed it in the bin moments after finishing the article, shaking his head.

"Don't let them get to you, Hermione. That's exactly what they're trying to do," he said. "And, um, I'm guessing you're pretty tired, so... there's the guest bedroom, if you'd like."

They were going to be sharing a marital bedroom in four days, so what did it matter? They still hadn't got past that awkward friendship stage, and even though she knew she had to, and would be, in less than a week, Hermione wasn't all that sure if she was comfortable sharing a _bed_, not just as friends, but as husband and wife. At this point, she didn't know if she would ever be.

Sometimes, though, she just needed a friend. A hug, really.

"Yeah, that sounds good," she said, transfiguring her Muggle clothes in pyjamas and finding the guest bedroom.

* * *

_"Tell me, Mudblood, did you take it?" The voice hissed at her, black eyes as cold as ice narrowing down at her. The knife pressed into her skin further, making her cry out in pain and thrash around._

_"No - no, nothing, we took nothing!" Hermione pleaded._

_"LIAR!" Bellatrix screamed, twisting the knife into her forearm, just enough to break the skin. "How did you know it was there?"_

_"We didn't! We don't!"_

_"You shouldn't be lying, Mudblood," the woman snarled, "Crucio!"_

_Pain coursed through her body like blood through arteries, and it was a struggle, oh - all she could feel was overwhelming pain and darkness, bending her mind and torturing it. It was like she had been in cold water her whole life and suddenly thrown into boiling water - it_ burned _like nothing before_. _She__ screamed out, gasping, and in the dark recesses of her mind she could hear Bellatrix's cackle, gleeful at her pain. _

* * *

Fred woke up to loud screaming shaking the walls of his flat.

_Hermione. _Wand at the ready, he raced out of his bed and to where the screams, heartbreakingly loud screams, were coming from - the guest room. Instead of an attacker, like he was expecting, it was Hermione.

She was crying in her sleep, thrashing around the bed with the blankets tangled around her legs. She let out another sob, and a loud cry, followed by another murmured "Please".

"Hermione," he said loudly, and stumbled to her bedside. He grabbed her shoulders, and regretted it as soon as she began to struggle to get out of his grasp. He shook her gently. "Hermione, c'mon, wake up, please. It was just a dream, just a dream. C'mon."

Her struggles became less intense, before she stilled and blinked open her eyes, sitting up and taking in the scene before her - Fred leaning next to her, looking very worried.

"Hermione," he murmured in a low tone, unsure what to do. Unexpectedly, she began crying again - heart-wrenching sobs that shook her body. He certainly couldn't let her just sit there.

Fred had never been great at embracing people. Pranking them? Sure. Teasing them? Yeah. But comforting definitely wasn't one of his traits. His hugs were awkward, and he never had the right words to say in these situations.

But this time, Fred drew her into a loose hug, unsure if she was going to pull away. Instead, surprisingly, she fell into the hug, digging her face into his shoulder and continuing the sobbing - loud sobs that echoed around the room. He started rubbing slow circles onto her back, and tucked a curl behind her ear.

"Sorry," she said quietly,her eyes flickering to the wet spot on his shoulder, pulling back once her sobs had disappeared and were replaced with the occasional hiccup. Hermione looked at him with wide, brown, innocent eyes, rimmed with red, and right then she looked so delicate and breakable, and it was then that he promised himself he would never, _ever, _let anything happen to her. Nothing would ever cause her this much pain again. No one, much less the brilliant _Hermione Granger, _deserved this.

"Don't be sorry," he murmured, and at that point in time he realized just how close they were, their faces only centimeters apart.

Doing something that surprised both himself and Hermione, he planted a lingering, affectionate kiss on her forehead. She looked up at him curiously, her cheeks still flushed from crying and eyes red-rimmed and puffy.

"Are you alright?" It was a bit of a stupid question, he realized, right after he had asked this. "I mean, will you be okay?"

"Yeah," said Hermione, although she convinced neither him nor herself.

"If you ever need to talk about it..." he offered, drifting off by the end of the sentence.

"Maybe sometime, just not now, I can't - I mean, it's still..."

"It's okay," he said quietly. "But don't forget, the offer still stands." Fred gave her a careful look, before cautiously getting up.

Hermione gripped his hand, halting his movements. "Don't go," she said, barely audible. She shifted on the bed, lying down on the opposite side. Fred looked down at her. She looked so small, so scared, so nervous... how could he leave her on her own? Didn't he just promise to himself minutes before that he'd be there for her?

He lifted up the blankets, lying down on his side and facing her. She curled up to his side, not particularly caring that this could be potentially awkward in the morning. Fred subconsciously noted that her body fit perfectly into his, like a puzzle piece. Wrapping his arms around her, they both dissolved into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

_a/n - oh dear merlin this is longer than anything I've ever written. I'm unsure about this one, but I feel as though Fred and Hermione are slowly progressing in their relationship, and I want to portray the growing trust accurately. 50 reviews! Wow, I'm loving the feedback. You readers are wonderful._

_ANEwrites - I'm glad you noticed. It is, and will be used as, symbolism for the wedding of theirs that is to take place soon, but that's a whole other chapter. One that will be a pretty big moment in the story._

_don't forget to tell me about what you thought in a review!_


	15. omens

Steady sunlight streamed through the bottom of the curtains, signaling the start of a new day.

Hermione shifted in her comfortable position, attempting to pull the covers up over herself. After a few pointless tugs, her blanket wasn't going anywhere.

Probably because her blanket was a person, and the thing that she was tugging on was his shirt.

She sat up quickly with her eyes widening... what had happened?

Oh, right. Nightmares again. She remembered asking him to stay - wonderful. She'd done it. Gone and made everything weird... it wasn't as if there wedding was in four - no, three days, now, but still... they were more acquaintances than an engaged couple. And he - _he kissed her again, _didn't he?

She was sure her fluttering heart was caused by worry over Ginny.

"S' too early," Fred mumbled, shifting around. He clearly hadn't woken up yet - not enough to remember that she was there, anyways. She was sure there was blushed and awkward conversations mostly on her part to come.

_Peck. Peck._ Something was tapping on the window of the guest bedroom. Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed, making her way over there and throwing the cream-colored curtains open. A handsome snowy owl stood on the perch of the window, waiting, with a roll of parchment tucked in its beak. She let the owl in, taking the parchment. The little white owl nipped at her finger playfully before taking off into the early morning sky.

The outside was addressed to _Forge and bushy-haired bookworm_, in a scrawled writing that was vaguely familiar to her.

_Lovebirds,_

_Ginny's woken up, in the middle of the night. Angie and I just left. Come as soon as you can. She wants to talk to the both of you, she says._

_George_

_P.S. Don't delay _too_ much, if you know what I mean. _

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed loudly, jumping and dropping the parchment. She retransfigured her clothes into something wearable, and brushed her fingers through her hair. Her fingers got caught in the knots, so she conjured an elastic and tied it in a low bun, with strands falling out.

"Whas' goin on?" muttered Fred sleepily, shifting and pulling the blankets over his face.

"Ginny! She's woken up!"

"Hermione? Is that you?"

"_No_, Fred. The Giant Squid is in your flat. Get your lazy self out of bed and c'mon!"

"What happened? All I woke up to was you in my bed - or rather, me in yours." Hermione rolled her eyes at the smugness in his tone, albeit turning a little red.

"That doesn't matter right now," replied Hermione, blushing a little. "We need to go see your sister." Fred hopped out of bed, transfiguring his pajama bottoms into trousers quicker than she could blink.

"St. Mungo's!" Hermione called, stepping into the Floo and throwing up the Floo powder. She instantaneously reappeared in the St. Mungo's waiting area, coughing. Fred appeared behind her, yawning, and neither wasted any time. They made their way quickly down the clean, white halls of St. Mungo's, ignoring dirty looks from patrons as they jogged their way through.

"Family only, sir - " A mediwizard's warning died on his tongue when they slipped past him and into Ginny's hospital room, Hermione casting him an apologetic glance.

"Oh, Fred! Hermione! You're here!" Molly attempted to pull them both into a hug at the same time, causing Fred's neck to bend at an awkward angle. She pulled back, examining the two of them, before patting their heads and heading out for a quick cup of tea.

"Hey, Ginny," said Hermione quietly, examining the girl on the hospital bed. She didn't look much different from yesterday - still pale and weak-looking, but her large brown doe eyes were staring at Hermione and she was smiling softly. Hermione noticed Harry at Ginny's bedside, looking almost as tired as Ginny and very, very anxious - his messy raven hair was even more disarrayed than normal.

"Hermione," he grinned cheekily, jamming his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose, looking from her to Fred. At that moment she knew what he was thinking - her leaving to go back with Fred last night.

"I don't need any input from you, Harry Potter," she stated in what she mentally called her Prefect-voice. If it worked convincing Ron to do his homework at school, it could surely work for anything else. Harry smirked. "Where's Ron?"

"Overtime," piped in Ginny, informing the two of them. "Auror duties and stuff."

"What _exactly _happened, Gin? You ran into the store screaming..." Fred said cautiously, rubbing the back of his neck. It was a habit she often caught him doing; whether it be nervous, worried, embarrassed, or trying to calm down.

Not that she payed attention, of course.

Ginny knit her eyebrows together, and sighed deeply. "The thing is - I don't remember. I remember that morning - getting ready, going out to Diagon Alley to pick up a new broom-polishing kit - but not much after that. It's all flashes of light - black and blinding white, mostly. And one word - _tomorrow. _That wouldn't have any significance to you, would it?" It was strange to see her best friend, an avid Quidditch player and fun-loving girl, confined to a hospital bed and acting so serious.

"It's too common a word," Fred said, and even though this expression of deep thought was becoming more and more common on his face, she still wasn't used to it. Perhaps the war made them all a little more serious, see things in a different perspective.

"Something's going to happen today," Ginny said, suddenly. "It was yesterday, right, when I ran into the store and passed out? The whole time, someone kept whispering _tomorrow, _in a rough, scratchy voice that I didn't recognize."

"Maybe... well, someone could possibly use a Pensieve and take those memories from when you were unconscious, and see if they recognize the voice - it's very vague, but it might work," suggested Hermione.

"Herms, that's brilliant!" exclaimed Fred, and Hermione was both simultaneously pleased and annoyed with the use of the nickname. She _knows _he calls her that just specifically to get on her nerves.

"Brilliant, Hermione, there's a reason you're called the brightest witch of your age," gushed Ginny, looking pleased.

Harry nodded. "There's an idea. See, Hermione? This is why you should be an Auror."

"I'm not reconsidering, Harry, and Fred, _please _don't call me that," she laughed.

"We can go to the Ministry - there's a Pensieve in the Auror headquarters, I know that for sure. We would have to get clearance from Kingsley, but I know he wouldn't mind. We'd have to gather people, too, who may recognize the voice - we're already nearly certain it's rogue Death Eaters who attacked Diagon Alley, so maybe some of the Order of Phoenix."

"Kingsley, Hermione, Ron, Harry, my dad, McGonagall, Hagrid, Bill, even, maybe" suggested Fred. Hermione and Ginny nodded in accordance.

A knock sounded on the door of the hospital room. In came Bill, with Fleur at her side. Being a witch who always payed attention to the little details, Hermione's eyes flicked to Fleur's stomach, and the slight (very slight) roundness that wasn't there before. Hermione raised her eyebrows at Fleur, her eyes flickering down from her face to her stomach to her face. The blonde proved Hermione's suspicions by putting one finger over her lips in a '_shh_' motion. That was certainly a development.

"Hermione had a brilliant idea," said Ginny, giving loose hugs to both her brother and his wife. "You know how I kept hearing that one word, over and over again, in that same voice? The Aurors reckon it's Death Eaters, and Hermione suggested that we take Pensieve, get my memories from when I was out, and see if anyone recognizes the voice - it could lead us to who it is."

"You are very eentelligent, 'ermione," complimented Fleur. "Eet is a great idea."

"That could work," Bill mused. "Once we know who - or what - is behind these attacks, it'll be much easier to track them down."

A Healer bustled into the already-crowded hospital room, leaning over Ginny and waving her wand, murmuring things underneath her breath. The crowd backed away with the exception of Harry, who still sat on his stiff-backed chair at her bedside.

"Vitals are good, and no internal damage," the Healer announced to no one in particular. She turned to Ginny and the crowd. "We've kept her here for twelve hours' observation. Miss Weasley, you are free to leave St. Mungo's in one hour, but I advise you to stay indoors and guarded for the time being." Ginny perked up considerably when the Healer mention leaving the hospital. Once the Healer exited the room, the talking resumed.

"We'll have to do this as soon as possible," said Harry. He turned to his fiancée. "Gin, you wouldn't be opposed to coming to the Auror headquarters today, would you? It's not public, no one would see you or know you're there, except for us."

"Today, yes," said Ginny.

"Good. I'll send an owl to Kingsley, McGonagall, Ron and Hagrid, and I'll talk to Molly and Arthur about this," replied Harry, in a very formal tone.

"And Hermione and Fred," Ginny piped up, curiously, "wedding in three days, right?"

* * *

It was exactly 3 o'clock when Hermione was told to meet everyone at the Auror Headquarters.

"Nice to see you," said Ron, giving her a slightly awkward hug. He looked just as tired as Harry, if not more, and had a large smudge of ink on his nose. She hadn't seen him for quite a bit, but from what she had heard, Demelza and him were getting along just fine.

The Auror headquarters wasn't huge, but very useful. Posters were plastered all over the walls, of suspects from the war. Stacks of parchment were balanced on the desk, and what she assumed to be Ron's very messy desk had a large, blinding poster of the Chudley Cannons over it. Harry's desk was in the corner, with a cabinet made of polished oak next to it. There was two other desks against the far wall, and the large bay window had a charmed view of Muggle London over it. For desk work, it certainly wasn't bad.

"We're all here," announced Kingsley in his deep, booming tone. There was twelve of them; herself and Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Kingsley, Molly and Arthur, Bill, McGonagall and Hagrid (who both came on a very late notice). They all stayed silent, waiting for Ginny. Mr Weasley clapped a hand on his daughters' shoulder, offering consolation.

Ginny, who still looked very shaky and fragile, pointed her wand at her own head, concentrating. A silvery wisp of thought emerged on the top of her wand.

"Over here," Harry said, and with a flick of his wand the cabinet by his desk opened, revealing a Pensieve. Ginny shakily walked over to the bowl, dropping the swirl of thoughts into it.

"Ready?" asked Harry. They had all decided to delve into Ginny's memories at the same time; the sooner they knew who it was, the easier it would be for them to find out who exactly was speaking in her head.

They all stood poised around the Pensieve. Just before the sensation that took her into the memories started, she felt fingers wind through her own, squeezing her hand lightly. Hermione looked up into a freckly face, and squeezed Fred's hand back, grateful for the support.

"Ready, set, go," Harry murmured, and they seemed to fall into the Pensieve.

_They landed on ground. It was completely black - no one could be seen. It felt like a black hole, nothingness. The dark and silence was maddening, and Hermione's heart was pounding in her chest. She gripped Fred's hand tightly, most likely cutting off his circulation. He gripped back._

_Swirls of light, thin, wispy clouds of white, snaked through the darkness, illuminating the group just a bit. Everyone was rooted to their places - waiting, waiting for the voice._

_The thin, wispy clouds began to turn into forms - a vague human shape, much too vague to see details. The wispy cloud of white took a step, holding out his wand -_

_A terrible scream interrupted the group, causing confusion. Hermione heard a low gasp coming from Molly. _

_"It's Ginny's scream," muttered someone. The screams persisted - loud, ear-shattering and heart-breaking screams that eventually dissolved into sobs, and rose into the loud screams again, until the screams just suddenly stopped._

_"That must have been when she passed out," said Ron quietly. The clouds of white flew around the group, dismembering and flowing around the darkness like little balls of light so quickly it was giving Hermione a slight headache._

_"Tomorrow," said the raspy voice from nowhere. It was certainly not from anyone she knew, or anyone very young - it sounded gruff, like a man's voice. It had a slight lilt to it, as if the speaker had a lisp. "Tomorrow."_

As suddenly as they were thrown into the Pensieve, they were back out, standing slightly wobbly in the Auror office. Molly ran over to her daughter, engulfing her in a tight hug. "Oh, my baby," she murmured, and instead of pushing her away, Ginny hugged her back tightly, digging her face into her mothers shoulder with her eyes tightly closed.

"I've heard it before," said Mr Weasley, perplexed. He thought on it for a moment, staring at the ground. "I know who he is - I just can't _place _it."

"I haven't," said Harry.

"Nor I," replied Bill.

"Same with me," agreed Ron, and Hermione nodded.

"We haven't," the twins said in sync. Hermione noticed that her and Freds' hands were still joined together, palms sweaty. But since he wasn't making any motion to let go, she decided she wouldn't.

The room was silent, with only nervous breathing and the ominous _tick, tock _in the background. The voice didn't sound too friendly.

"It can't be!" exclaimed McGonagall, suddenly. All heads snapped to the elderly witch, who was massaging her temples and looking very pained.

"Professor..." murmured Harry.

"Rodolphus Lestrange," McGonagall said, merely a whisper. "Even if he's half as good as his wife - oh, he's dangerous."

* * *

_a/n - dun dun dun. wow. can you believe it? I'm super duper happy with this chapter. All the reviews you guys are sending in are wonderful - keep them going! You keep me inspired! 50 favorites... ah, I feel so loved. What do you all think of this chapter? This is one of my longer ones, I seem to be on a writing binge lately. (Probably because I'm drowning in due dates._

_as you can see, I'm trying to progress the relationship between Fred and Hermione a bit more. Step by step. Don't worry, there's fluffiness yet to come, I can tell you that much. Three days is their wedding, so possibly either the next chapter or the one after that... what do you guys think? What do you expect is going to happen next, now that we know who's behind it?_

_this chapter was inspired by the song 'hearts on fire' by passenger ft. ed sheeran. check it out. it's wonderful. this multi-chap is also for the 100k competition. :) So again, just like to remind you all to review - it inspires me and lets me know how I'm doing. allons-y!_


	16. unsweet dreams

note - I updated twice today. If you haven't read the last chapter, please do. It's very important. Here's the recap of the last chapter:

_"Something's going to happen today," Ginny said, suddenly. "It was yesterday, right, when I ran into the store and passed out? The whole time, someone kept whispering tomorrow, in a rough, scratchy voice that I didn't recognize."_

_"Maybe... well, someone could possibly use a Pensieve and take those memories from when you were unconscious, and see if they recognize the voice - it's very vague, but it might work," suggested Hermione. _

* * *

"Fred?" asked Hermione, nervous. "What are we going to do for our... for our wedding?" Three days. She had a dress, it was set to be in the backyard of the Burrow with a very small crowd.

"Our wedding?"

"Yeah, the Ministry required one that's in _three days? _With everything that's going on..." she trailed off, nervous.

"Oh, right," he said, looking a little sheepish. "Well, considering what's going on, maybe we should just go on, full steam ahead. Plus, Granger, I'm _sure _you don't want to put off marrying this any longer." Fred gestured to himself smugly, prompting Hermione to roll her eyes.

"Seriously. And, um, I have a question... it's probably not the best time," she bit her lip, blinking up at him, and voicing thoughts that she had been pondering for the past week or so, "but why did you kiss me that night? Right before I left... I..."

His eyebrows shot up to his forehead. "I thought you looked nice."

"What?"

"You looked nice."

"Oh..."

"Look," he said, dragging his fingers through his enticingly ginger hair, "Hermione, you're pretty, beautiful, even - don't even dare to protest. I'm not finished. This law is hard on everyone. We need to make the best of things, and I'm not asking you to reciprocate. And my mum always told us that when we think a girl looks pretty, we should let her know. So I let you know, in a sense." He said it poignantly and with a straight face, like it was a fact he had read out of a book.

Unexpected? Yes. Very. He was looking down on her, and she was tempted to ask if it was a joke, because certainly he couldn't like _her._ He couldn't possibly think _she _was was there to like, in all honesty? But Fred was looking down on her, his eyes sparkling with the truth. He bided his time, waiting for a response.

Okay, so she liked his physical figure. (But really, though, who didn't?) Hermione could easily admit to quietly ogling his very nice stature when him and his twin took off their shirts while de-gnoming the garden at the Burrow. She could also admitting to thinking he was smart, funny, charming...

"Thank you, then," she said quietly, protests on the tip of her tongue.

"You look like you don't believe me," he told her. He had knit his eyebrows together, looking at her with a honesty that almost scared her. Until the law came into practice, she never knew him to be so full of expressions; he was really much more serious than she had thought. More three-dimensional.

"It's hard to believe," Hermione said, truthfully and unwavering.

"Why? Hermione, I thought you were intelligent. Come on," he had a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm not _pretty," _she said simply. "And someone like you - and someone like me? Think about it."

"What do you mean, someone like me?" He asked, curiously. She sat down on the opposite side of his sofa, drawing her knees to her chest.

"I don't know. Universally well-liked, funny, and you can get any girl you want -" Fred grinned widely at the slew of compliments, looking slightly smug. "and I'm that bossy Gryffindor Prefect who always has her nose in a book."

"You're also Hermione Weasley, Order of Merlin, First Class-"

"Did you call me _Hermione Weasley?" _she asked, laughing.

"You're going to be a Weasley soon, love, better get used to it," Fred winked, and for the millionth time that day, she felt her cheeks getting hot. How she wished she wasn't easily prone to blushing.

"And one more thing," Hermione said suddenly, a thought popping into her head, "where are we going to live? Your mother's been asking me about this, and the law says we have to... cohibate." Fred laughed at her use of words, and knew what she was subtly referring to but not wanting to say out loud. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, anyways.

"Cohibate, Granger?"

She rolled her eyes and continued with her monologue. "Merlin, we should have figured this out earlier. Three - more like two days now, and we're just figuring this out now! Oh, this is going to turn into a huge mess. I haven't even done anything yet, and the wedding, and my parents! I haven't even told them I'm getting married -"

"You haven't told your parents?"

Hermione looked sheepish. "I... I don't know. It's kind of hard to explain to them that the Wizarding World enacted a Marriage law and now I have to marry someone because they said so. Anyways - we don't really visit often, they're in Australia. After this whole mess is over... I'll tell them."

Fred stretched his legs out on the sofa, his toes barely touching her thighs where she was seated at the other end. "Have you ever noticed that you talk a lot when you're nervous or angry or embarrassed? And I was thinking... here, above the shop... until we get settled in. And then we could find somewhere, together," he suggested vaguely, and she nodded in agreement, getting up and stretching.

"I'd better get home," she said, yawning. It wasn't really late - only 9 at night - but the sun had already disappeared into the horizon and Hermione could feel her eyelids drooping; it had been quite the day, after all, even if they had spent most of it in a Pensieve and talking at his flat.

"I'll see you soon, then, Hermione Weasley," said Fred.

_Baby steps, _she told herself, nervously kissing him on the cheek before Apparating out. Both missed the others' reaction; his fingers gliding over where her soft lips had touched his cheekbone, and her feeling the weird tingling sensation on her lips that she hadn't felt before.

* * *

After a hot shower, which Hermione rejuvenated and relaxed, letting the steam calm her emotions, she slipped into the soft sheets of her bed soon after, rolling on her side and falling into a light slumber. Maybe the word Ginny had heard in her mind wasn't right; they were just playing with her. Nothing had happened 'tomorrow'.

_The cold bitterness of the stone room she was in sent chills down her spine, and her hands clenched into fists. Where was she? By the looks of it... a dungeon - damp and cold._

_"Hermione?" asked a solemn voice, quietly. She pivoted around to see Fred Weasley staring at her with a terrified expression on his face, pale-looking. His orange freckles stood out more than ever and his fiery ginger hair seemed more dull copper than red._

_"Fred?" she asked in a whisper, shocked. He immediately pulled her into a hug, rocking her back and forth against his warm body. She dug her face into his shoulder, closing her eyes tightly._

_ A sudden movement shocked them both out of their embrace; the locks on the doors of the dungeon clicking open. A hooded figure entered, with his wand at the ready._

_Hermione scanned the room nervously. Was there anything she could do? She was wandless, and by the looks of it, Fred was too. The hooded figure relocked the dungeon doors and approached them slowly, robes billowing out behind him. He back the couple into a cold wall, a few feet away._

_"Ah, lovers," he sneered in a raspy tone. "I told you it would be tomorrow."_

_Hermione's dream ended in a shocking flash of green light._

She sat up in her bed, breathing deeply, in and out. The nightmare... _tomorrow..._it's couldn't have possibly been...

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Hermione paused in her movement when the sound of her Floo being activated came from the other room.

"Hello?" she called nervously, wand at the ready and eyes alert.

"Hermione?" a familiar voice rang out, and she un-tensed considerably. It was Fred, only Fred, not some rogue Death Eater, thank Merlin. But again, what was Fred doing here?

"Fred? What are you doing here?" she asked, making her way to the sitting room, where the Floo was located.

As soon as he saw her enter the room, he engulfed her in a large hug, rocking her back and forth. It felt oddly like deju vu. Fred had obviously inherited his grip from his mother - she could hardly breathe at the moment. She gasped for air and he let go.

"Oh, I was so worried," he murmured, cupping her face with his hands and bringing her body to his once more.

"Fred..." Hermione asked cautiously, "what happened?" What caused a person to visit someone else in the middle of the night and randomly engulf them in a bone-shattering hug?

"It was a nightmare," he admitted, "the man - he kept saying _tomorrow, _and you were in it, and I sort of overreacted, but I needed to know you were safe."

"Was it... was it in a dungeon?"

"Yeah... it was. How'd you know that?"

"Because I had the same exact dream."

* * *

_a/n - more fred/hermione action, just like I promised. I hope you're all enjoying this right now; it's almost four o'clock in the morning, so I should be getting to bed now. ;p _

_ANEwrites - J.K. never actually mentioned if he died or not, so I decided to interpret that myself. :)_

_Sandy-wmd - Yes, Bellatrix was married to Rodolphus, but as far as canon goes, I believe she liked Voldemort in that way._

_I took the time to go back and edit most of my chapters, just basic little things like spelling and grammar and the like. :) Hope you enjoyed! For the 100k Competition, and the Joys of Arranged Marriage._


	17. it's time

_This chapter was uploaded the same day as the previous. If you haven't read that one, please do. _

It had been two days since the odd, peculiar dream incident and nothing had happened. No Death Eater activity had been reported, and the Daily Prophet was back to journaling about Harry Potter's private life and Quidditch standings.

Hermione fidgeted in her seat. Today was the day she was to get married to a man she knew she liked. She wasn't at love, not yet. Hermione was still fidgety and awkward around him. But he liked her, too, so maybe things would work out okay. Ginny was telling her to stay on the optimistic side - and that's exactly what she was trying to do.

"Ouch, Ginny, you're pulling it too tight," complained Hermione as Ginny tied the intricate strings on the back of her white dress.

Hermione had to admit to herself that she loved her dress - it had a layer of lace on top of the silk fabric, dipping down to her mid-back. It was strapless, with a v-neck and it was elegant, from the matching jeweled tiara to the silvery, sparkling heels. It hugged her hips perfectly and flared out the right amount at the bottom, in a small train.

For the event, Hermione had gotten her hair straightened with Sleezeaky's, and had gotten Fleur to do in in a simple French twist, with a few strands framing her face perfectly.

"You look beautiful," murmured Ginny, standing back and viewing Hermione critically.

"'ermione, you are stunning," said Fleur in her pronounced French accent.

"Fred's going to love you," exclaimed Ginny, and Hermione laughed uncertainly. "Are you nervous?" Ginny asked.

"Of course I'm nervous," said Hermione, "I don't know what to do. What if I trip down the aisle? What if this is all a joke? What if I-"

"'ermione, eet is okay. You weel do great, I know," Fleur assured, interrupting the girl's nervous monologue.

"Oh!" piped Ginny, hopping up from her seat and speeding to the corner of the room. She ruffled around in a drawer before speeding back over to Hermione.

"Harry knows a little bit about Muggle traditions," Ginny explained, "and we thought this would be nice for you."

"'ere is sometheeng new," announced Fleur, delicately opening the top to a velvet jewelry case, revealing glittering, matching pearl earrings.

"You didn't have to do this, you two," replied Hermione, but fastened them in her ears nonetheless. "Oh, this is wonderful - you have no idea how much this means to me."

"Something borrowed." Ginny threw something skimpy at her. "It's my garter, and I'd like it back, please." Not really a type for wearing garters, but appreciating the thought regardless, she shimmied the garter on herself.

"Sometheeng blue," continued Fleur, revealing a hairpin with crystals and aquamarine engraved into it, breathtakingly beautiful. Fleur pinned it into her hair.

"And last but not least, something old," said Ginny, and motioned for Hermione to hold out her wrist. The older girl complied, and Ginny slipped a thin, jeweled bracelet on her wrist.

"It's from the Prewett side of the family," explained Ginny, "and Mum thinks you as her own daughter, and I got the other heirlooms, so..." Hermione felt emotions building up, tears welling in her throat. She made a mental note to thank Mrs Weasley profusely later.

For the last time before she walked the aisle, she examined herself in the mirror - it was the same Hermione Granger (although she wouldn't be that much longer) with big, brown doe eyes and pale skin. It was the last time, she thought to herself, that she'd ever see herself as an unmarried woman. Because in exactly ten minutes, she was due to become Mrs Fred Weasley. Through the window of Ginny's bedroom, where she was preparing, she could see guests enter the Burrow.

"Are you ready, Hermione?" asked Ginny quietly.

"I can't do this," exclaimed Hermione hysterically. "I can't!"

"Calm down. We all got cold feet. Half an hour, this will be over, okay? Deep breathing."

Hermione followed Ginny's advice - deep breaths. In and out. In and out. "Okay."

"Are you ready?" asked Ginny, one last time.

"Yes," replied Hermione, not really feeling so.

The two girls made their way down the stairs of the Burrow carefully, Ginny poised near Hermione to catch her if she fell.

Molly bustled into the Burrow, announcing it was time. "Oh, dear, you look lovely - my son is certainly lucky," she gushed, admiring Hermione as her eyes started to cloud over a little bit. "Oh, I remember when you were only thirteen, visiting here. Seems like a whole lifetime ago, that."

"Mum, we'll have time for that later, but I'm her maid of honor and she _needs _to be there on time," bossed Ginny, in a tone similar to Molly's.

_It's time, _Hermione thought.

* * *

_a/n- I seem to be on a roll here._

_after some very serious chapters, I thought I'd write a little Hermione getting ready one. After this chapter, the updates will be less frequent due to RL - probably one chapter every two weeks, two if I can manage it. I know this is short, but the next chapter will be of decent length and feature the wedding and other things. More adventure to come, folks._

_review, please (:_


	18. so beautiful

Fred adjusted his robes in the mirror, and ran a hand through his hair.

"You look like you've seen a Dementor, Freddie," George chuckled, taking in the paleness of his twin's face that caused his freckles to stand out more than usual. Before Fred could reply, Molly Weasley bustled into the room, wearing her standard mother-of-the-groom robes and gasping loudly, before engulfing her son in a tight bear hug.

"Oh, my baby, about to get married," she exclaimed emotionally, leaning back to pat his cheek and kiss it. Fred squirmed, but she continued her coddling. "So grown up, that's everyone now..."

"Just wait until you see Hermione," his mother continually gushed, unrelenting on her hold, "so beautiful! Oh, you two will make the _prettiest _grandbabies…"

"S' a bit early for that, Mum," mumbled Fred, turning a bit pink.

"It's never too early for grandbabies, Freddie," snickered George, leaning against the wall with his ankles crossed. Git.

George's comment seemed to nudge his mother onwards. "He's right, Fred! Oh, look at me. Completely a mess." She patted his cheek, kissing it before exiting.

"_Grandbabies,_" said Fred, "right."

"Well, by law, you have to," said George, a teasing expression in place. "Bright side is that means baby-_making, _and that's the fun part."

Fred, however reluctant, was complied to agree.

* * *

_A few kilometers out of Edinburgh, Scotland_

"It is ready."

The cold voice echoed through the room, sounding assured. The smaller figure next to him nodded solemnly.

"It will attack during the ceremony, will it not?"

"I've already told you this," snapped the deeper voice. "imbecile. It will attack after."

"But don't you think we're following the Dark Lord's footsteps a bit too well, didn't they attack a Weasley wedding last time? And look what happened – "

"_This. Will. Work. _His plan, although clever, was flawed at best. We have perfected the flawed regimen. It will work, stupid boy."

"Father, are you sure? Be it-"

"What have I told you? _Shut up. _Make yourself useful and get the others."

The boy marched out of the room, his black robes trailing after him and muttering under his breath. Four other black-cloaked figures followed him back in.

"We are ready, sir," spoke the tallest one.

* * *

Ginny had noticed Hermione's tears before anyone else did.

"Hey, what's wrong?" She dabbed at the girl's makeup, which was starting to smear under her eyes.

"I can't do this," Hermione sobbed, looking helpless, "I can't do this, Gin. Everything has always made sense to me before...b-but I don't know what to do, I don't want to do this, I can't do this. It's tearing me apart."

"Hey," said Ginny, uncharacteristically softly, "hey. Look at me."

Hermione sniffled and looked up at her.

"I know it's not what you wanted it to be. I know you didn't want to get married by someone else's terms. But my brother is a nice guy. If he knows how to do anything right, it's treating you right and making you happy. It could have turned out worse. Cheer up, you're my best friend and I'm not going to have you smearing your makeup five minutes before the ceremony's due to start."

Hermione took a deep breath, halting her tears. "I'm sorry, Ginny. That was quite childish of me, a fit of hysteria... sorry about that... thank you."

"It's no problem," replied Ginny, grinning, "but just think about it... in a few minutes you'll be my sister! Not that you weren't before, but my sister!"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh along at Ginny's enthusiasm.

* * *

Fred found the ceremony to be boring, as was the official who was leading it. The words were standard Ministry-decided vows, and it was something neither of them would have chosen for themselves.

Hermione, however, was the opposite of boring. The moment she descended down the aisle with Harry leading her down, she took his breath away and he heard his twin snickering behind him at his shocked expression. He wondered why he didn't see her this way earlier; so _beautiful. _Fleur couldn't even hold a candle to her, and it took a bit of concentration to keep his eyes on her face and not everywhere else, the places the flowing white gown highlighted. He could barely wait until the official was done.

She smiled at him nervously, as pale as a ghost. She was clutching Harry's arm as if it were her lifeline, him wincing in pain a few times from the pressure. Hermione was always so confident, seemingly fearless. It was kind of odd, Fred thought, to be so strong-willed in the face of adversity during the war but to be so nervous during something as trivial as a wedding, although he had to admit he was sort of the same way. Honestly, he had no idea how to be a husband. Most of his relationships fizzled after a few dates.

He slipped the ring onto her finger, looking into her almost-amber eyes which stared back at him, all-knowing.

But this one was going to last, and he would do it right this time.

* * *

"... and I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss-"

The official hadn't even finished his sentence by the time Fred's lips were on hers. It was by no means a friendly kiss, but a gentle, loving one, and before she could even think, she found herself responding, and before long, an arm was snaked around her waist. It was kind of like he was trying to convey his emotions into the kiss, everything he hadn't said and wanted to say, and she understood it perfectly.

A wolf-whistle from Charlie and an awkward cough from Percy drew them apart, her blushing and him grinning.

"Ready to go to the reception, Mrs Weasley?" Fred asked lowly to her.

Hermione scowled playfully at him. "That makes me sound like your mother."

"Okay, _Hermione _Weasley."

"Thank you."

* * *

_a/n - hey, everyone! sorry for the month-long wait... I've been pretty busy, but now I'm not and good news, I should probably have a chapter up weekly! How'd you like the wedding? I tried to keep it short and sweet. (: More action and fluff up next, don't worry! I would love to hear your thoughts..._


	19. the big boom

"It's time, father."

"Ready? On my mark."

"3," The boy held his wand to the ground, invisible - he couldn't even see his own feet. Only his father noticed the boy's slight tremble, and glared at him in retribution. "2," The boy took a deep breath. Did they he really want to do this? Did he have a choice? Probably not - "1."

The ground rumbled beneath him - the darkness was now making itself known.

* * *

_BOOM._

The ground shook, reminiscent of an earthquake.

"What was that?" murmured Hermione, frowning. The chatter had stopped dead, and it was oddly silent in the reception tent. Another loud boom followed, creating shockwaves in the ground.

"An earthquake, I'd hope," muttered Ginny, and earthquake would be the best scenario, really - it could be an earthquake, or it could be Death Ea- well, Hermione didn't really want to think about that. Worst case scenario, right?

She pulled her wand from where it was delicately tucked inside her dress, clutching it.

"C'mon, it's just thunder or something," Ron attempted to end the silence, taking a sip of his Butterbeer. Demelza stood next to him, contempt clearly visible on her face. "Nothing to worry about, you lot, it's-"

_BOOM._

Ron paled as the ground shook, throwing a few people off balance. Most of the guests stepped out of the tent, curious as to what was going on. Hermione's eyes widened, as did her new husbands', and they both left the white tent.

Outside, dreary, heavy grey clouds were covering the sky, which was previously bright and sunny a mere minute or so ago. There was a shadow towards the woods behind the Burrow, but surely that was just her mind playing tricks on her, definitely...

"It can't be," said Ginny, a strangled sort of desperation in her tone. Hermione followed her eyesight to the horizon, the heavy clouds hovering over the little town of Ottery St. Catchpole, where the oh-so-familiar wispy design of a skull with two snakes coming out of the mouth hovered over the sky...

Sobs broke out - it couldn't be, it couldn't be, this absolutely could not be happening. Fleur leaned into her husband, sobbing quietly and rubbing a hand over her slightly swelling stomach. Molly gasped dramatically, and Harry, Hermione and Ron all had similar masks of disbelief. This couldn't be happening, right? The war was over, and along with that, all of the evil that plagued the Wizarding world. This... this was a time of peace.

"Just like before," said Arthur amongst the silence, and most heads snapped to him - Kingsley knitted his eyebrows, frowning and understanding Arthur's message before anyone else had.

"Attacking a Weasley wedding during the reception," Kingsley finished slowly; there was an obvious sense of deja vu hanging over them, the feeling that this had happened before, and it hadn't bided well.

"'Er-my," little Teddy started, botching up her name, "whatshat?" He pointed to the symbol in the sky. Hermione felt fingers wind through her own, an unusual but not unwelcome sensation.

"Something bad," said Hermione, squeezing the hand - Fred's - that was connecting with hers in support. "Something very, very bad."

"There's Death Eaters down there, most definitely, and it's a warning - there's something that has happened down there, and I don't know if I want to know," Kingsley said - even though the tone of his voice was deep and reassuring, the words he said calmed nobody. The reception was small, all people who had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, not even thirty people - and most of them were Weasley's and their respective spouses.

"I can't have Teddy here," said Harry, holding his toddler godson. "He can't...it's too dangerous."

Hermione found it a little odd there was no direct Death Eater ambush - how peculiar was that? You'd think they'd all swarm, considering the lax security of the whole entire wedding and the amount of former Dumbledore's Army and Order of Phoenix members attended. She frowned, deep in though, hardly noticing Fred gently placing his arm around her bare shoulders, rubbing her shoulder absentmindedly while exchanging meaningful glances with his twin. Where were they? What happened, to be exact?

"Fleur, you need to go back to Shell Cottage," said Bill firmly, his eyes moving from her face to her stomach.

"Beel, I can't go alone," she protested lightly.

"The wards are still set up, strong as ever - and you know the password."

"I'll go with her," interrupted Demelza quietly, "and we could take Teddy with us, Harry - I'll watch over him."

Harry frowned for a moment, before leaning over and whispering something in his godson's ear. Teddy beamed and clapped, oblivious to the dire situation.

"You should go with them, Hermione," murmured Fred, close to her ear. She pulled back and scowled at him.

"I'm completely capable of - "

Fred interrupted. "I know you are. I know. I just... don't want you to get hurt," he frowned for a moment, pausing, "plus, you are in your wedding dress..."

"To hell with the wedding dress."

Fred shot her a look; a million different expressions she couldn't decipher, but there was a few she could point out... if_ this_ wasn't going on right now, Hermione probably would have thought more into it, but now wasn't the time for any of that.

Harry passed Teddy over to Demelza and Fleur, and the three of them left quickly towards the Burrow with Molly tailing after them, instructing them on the Floo and insisting she take care of her honorary grandson. They slipped inside and headed towards the Floo.

"Well, most of us are Gryffindors, right?" spoke Ron. "How about we take a look down there?"

"With caution," Kingsley warned slowly. "We don't know what's going on, and it's best not to say anything." Because they were possibly, and most likely, being listened to.

Before anyone had said anything else, Harry had casted the same wards around the reception tent that Hermione remembered herself casting around the other tent when they had camped in the forest. Everyone was ushered into the tent, where Harry mentioned that they could speak freely without being seen or overheard.

"We can't all go down there," said Harry.

"We need to see... what happened," said Kingsley deeply, surveying the group; the Weasley family and their respective spouses, Professor McGonagall, and most of Dumbledore's Army - Seamus, Dean, Parvati, and Lavender had all attended.

"I'm going," said Ron, sticking up his chin, daring anyone to say no.

His mother took the challenge. "Ronald Weasley, you are _not_ going anywhere!"

Kingsley spoke next with a tone of finality in his voice. "Myself, Harry, Hermione, the Weasley duo, William, Ron, and Arthur."

* * *

The son straightened his back. All he had to do was follow his fathers' orders, that was all. Nothing more. He didn't have to kill anyone. He didn't want to.

* * *

_/grins and waggles eyebrows/ review, pwease?_


	20. ribbons

The sky was nearing pitch black, despite the fact that it was midday. The green of the Dark Mark stood out like a light in a sea of darkness, despite the fact that it most definitely did not mean anything light.

She could _feel _Fred's frown on her.

"Why are you giving me that look?" she asked, grasping her wand and performing a silent transfiguration, turning her fanciful white dress into a pair of easygoing slacks and a t-shirt.

"Nothing," he said.

They all side-along Apparated with Kingsley, him being the only one who was able to master that silently.

The little village was dark and gloomy, only alit by the ominous green glow of the Dark Mark. The twinkling lights usually present in the windows and streetlamps were gone; it did feel like night, even though it quite obviously wasn't.

"It's over that house," murmured Bill; a tiny stone cottage, the kind where a small family or perhaps an aging couple would live. The door was hanging off the hinges - definitely not a good sign. The Dark Mark seemed to hover directly over the house, the snakes still twisted in and out of the skull.

It took barely two minutes to approach the house, still another sound not heard. The back of the group was monitored by Harry, who watched everyones' backs as they approached the house, standing in the doorway.

_Homenum revelio, _murmured Hermione. A blue light lit up inside the house, and another, another...

All of the attacking spells hit at once.

* * *

It was weird, Fred thought, the sky looking as if it was night when it actually wasn't. The Dark Mark sent chills to the very core of him; it was something he hadn't seen, hadn't worried about for over a year, and now here it was, back in a sense of deja vu...

Before his brain could even process it, a large shot of green light streaked towards him.

* * *

Hermione was so shocked by the sudden turn of events - silence to attack, all in a matter of moments - it took her a moment to gather her wits. Light of every color began to shoot from all directions, pushing the group into the center of the one-roomed cottage. They stood, facing outwards, in a circle. Black cloaked figues surrounded them, with the pointed tip of the hood and mask that identified them as Death Eaters.

Something caught the corner of her eye - a large, much larger than usual, flash of green light. Must have been two wizards, casting the same spell at once. And she knew exactly what spell it was. Disasterous things always happened to two people who cast the same exact spell together and combine them, her mind reminded her.

That green burst of light was headed specifically towards a redhead, who she knew didn't have the time or was too shocked by the sudden turn of events to do anything...

_Protego, _she shouted, worriedly, frantically, and just as relief hit her, her shield charm dissolved the _Avada Kedavra _hurling that way, Hermione turned for a moment and everything went black as ribbons of pain, achingly familiar, traveled up her spine.

They threatened to untie the carefully constructed strands of her mind, pulling and tugging with such force. Surely she'd rather be branded with a hot iron, or slept on a bed of nails, because this pain, this unbearable pain seemed to go on forever even though it had just started, slowly starting to unwind the strands of her mind.

* * *

_A small little apology chapter before school starts for me. This story isn't going to have very frequent updates anymore due to time constraints, but I will try._


End file.
